All About Thorin
by lizajay12
Summary: All About Thorin is a series of romantic stories, each with an individual title and providing a complete and satisfying read within each chapter. Thorin does not die but returns to his forge in Ered Luin with Peter Jackson's new character, the elf, Tauriel. Each story aims to put a smile on my readers' faces. Prompted by PJ's choice of Richard Armitage in the role of Thorin.
1. Chapter 1 Thorin Has A Bad Day

Thorin has a Bad Day

Pt 1

It was evening but still Thorin laboured at his forge. He had worked continuously for hours now but he knew he had almost reached his goal and a desire to perfect his creation drove him on. Totally absorbed in his work, he thrust the sword blade once more into the flames and worked the bellows until he knew the metal was at the right heat. He withdrew it and, placing it firmly on his anvil, he hammered skilfully until his heart told him that the sword could not be bettered. The blade steamed and hissed as he plunged it into a trough of water and, with a sigh of pleasure, Thorin examined his finished work. Who would have thought that what had started out as six separate rods of steel, cunningly twisted and hammered together, had now been forged into one perfect, shining piece of metal? There were no seams but, where the rods had been forcefully blended into one, the pattern welding had left a beautiful tracery that flowed down the blade like a rippling river and marked it as a very special weapon.

Tomorrow, Thorin thought, he would make a pommel that would feel so right in the owner's hand that he would think it was an extension of his own limb. As he gazed at this wonderful piece of work, his heart was full. It wasn't often these days that he was asked to create a thing of beauty and power. Too often, he spent his time repairing the broken rims of carts or manufacturing whole boxes of nails or, if he were lucky, making some useful farm implement.

His father, Thrain, had once said that wrought gold created gold but he couldn't remember the last time that he had been asked to make a beautiful piece of jewellery. Instead, he worked with iron –and iron created only a livelihood and not a fortune. All the achingly precious and beautiful things that he and his father and his father's father had forged and made down the long years were now the possessions of the dragon, Smaug, stolen from his family and his kin.

So much had been lost that day when the dragon came: his home, his treasure, his inheritance and many, many comrades, burned and trampled upon and killed before they could escape from their great halls deep in the Lonely Mountain. His grandfather, Thror, was dead, butchered by Azog and his orcs; Thrain had disappeared and now Thorin was left to eke out a living at his forge in the foothills of Ered Luin, dreaming all the time of a return from exile, the destruction of Smaug and the reclaiming of his kingdom.

He sighed and pulled free the rag that held back his long, dark hair so that the black locks fell in a heavy mass down onto his powerful shoulders, framing his strong, harsh features. He came to the door of his forge and paused there a while, breathing in the cool evening air and gazing up at the twilight beauty of the Blue Mountains. He felt weary today, both with the long hours of work and with his life that seemed to stretch endlessly before him, useless and empty. The forge was attached to a small, one-roomed hall - Thorin's Hall, the locals grandly called it - but it was little more than a hut with a central stone fireplace, a home that was substantially different both in style and size from the grandeur of the ancestral halls of Erebor that he had known as a child. However, it was conveniently positioned at a crossroads, handy for passing trade and a number of scattered farmsteads. It was lonely here but also quiet, a place where he could think and brood.

He realised he was hungry and was about to move towards the house when he heard the sound of hooves approaching down the lane. As he listened to the slow clip-clop, he recognised, with a tired and sinking heart, that the horse had lost a shoe. Just what he needed when all he wanted was a quick bite to eat and to fall into bed.

As the horse came into view from behind the bushes and trees, he saw his guess had been correct because its rider was walking by its side and the beast appeared to be limping slightly. As they drew closer, his heart sank even further. An elf! This was going to be a bad end to what had been a satisfying day, he thought. His brows drew together in a glower and he folded his arms across his broad chest, leaning back against the door jamb.

Tauriel was relieved when she saw the forge at last. She had passed this way on her outward journey and remembered that there was a smith at the crossroads. A dwarf, of course, but beggars can't be choosers, she thought, and after walking for miles, she couldn't be fussy over who shoed the horse as long as they did a decent job.

She could see him now, leaning against the entrance to the forge, and looking none too pleased to see her either. She told herself to keep her tongue between her teeth and not to offend him if she wanted the job done. But there was no love lost between the two races and she hoped that this wasn't going to prove too difficult a task.

As she got a good view of him, she felt a little startled. He was surprisingly tall for a dwarf and his muscled torso made him look even bigger. He wore a dirty singlet under a leather apron; his powerful arms were folded across his chest and his posture was aggressive and unwelcoming. She also noted that, although his hair was long and braided before the ears in the style that many dwarves adopted, his beard was unusually short. He looks very arrogant, she thought. This is going to be really difficult.

As he got a good view of her, he felt a little startled. This elf was a woman. She was dressed in men's clothing but she also carried a long, elegant bow on one shoulder and a quiver of arrows whilst he could see the pommels of a pair of long, killing knives poking out from behind her back.

She must be a female warrior. They existed, just as some dwarven women chose to fight but this was the first time he had seen one. In fact, he had never seen an elf of either sex fight. During the dwarf and goblin wars that had been incited by the death of Thror, the elves had refused to come to their aid. His brother had been killed during one dreadful battle fought before the Gates of Moria and he had never forgiven the elves for their failure to help. His glower deepened. She looks very arrogant, he thought. This is going to be really difficult.

"Your horse has lost a shoe," he said brusquely. This was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, I need you to fix it now," she replied, her tone sharp and none too polite.

He looked at her but didn't answer. Instead, he led her horse to a tethering rail and then disappeared into the forge to collect his tools.

She watched him in silence for a while as he worked efficiently at replacing the shoe. He handled the horse gently and his large hands stroked its flanks whilst he murmured softly to it now and again. Tauriel was surprised at how calmly her horse stood there. It had a bad temper and she had been secretly hoping that it would give the dwarf a nip. She needed a laugh. When nothing like that was obviously going to happen, she searched elsewhere for her amusement, casually examining the inside of the forge, then wandering around outside and idly peering through the open front door of the hall. She was amused at how neatly everything was kept and she tried to imagine the hulking smith – and a dwarf at that – sweeping his floors, making the bed and washing up his dishes. Her lips twitched with a little smile at the thought of this strapping man doing such homely tasks. But, there again, she thought, there doesn't appear to be anyone else to do it for him.

Thorin was fuming as he worked on the shoe. He tried to remain calm so as not to spook the horse but it was getting more and more difficult. How dare she poke around in his home as if she owned the place? First of all, she had had a good look at his forge and now she was even peering through his front door. And NOW she was laughing at him! He wanted to ask her what it was she found so amusing, but he bit his tongue. She'd be gone soon and he would never have to look at her again.

Actually, he thought, he didn't mind looking at her. She was quite striking – for an elf. Not so tall as to tower over him - he just hated the way that most elves always seemed to be sneering down their noses at him from their lofty heights – and perhaps she was too skinny for dwarf tastes – but her long hair fell in a great, smooth sheet down her back, reminding him of the pale gold he had so loved to work all those long years ago, and she moved very gracefully and with a quietness that dwarves themselves were famous for. He imagined her stealthily creeping up on an enemy – she could have an arrow through him before he even knew she was there.

"It's done," he said. She untied the purse at her belt and paid him. She dropped the coins into his hand, making sure that their fingers didn't touch and he flinched as they fell into his palm as if he felt the weight of her imagined scorn burning his skin.

"Now, just get on your horse and go," he thought. But she hesitated, fidgeting uncertainly for a moment, and then turned to him and asked how long he thought it would take her to reach the Mountain Eagle inn.

"A few hours."

She stared up at the sky. By now it was nearly dark and clouds covered the rising moon. An elf's eyesight was better than most, but it was dangerous to be out alone after sunset. Thorin knew this too. Small roving bands of goblins raiding down from the north would sometimes attack unwary travellers once the sun went down.

"I would have been there some time ago if it hadn't been for that shoe," she muttered. Then she seemed to make a decision and squared her shoulders. "I'll pay you well to sleep in your hall overnight. I saw another bed in the corner of the forge – you could sleep there."

Her manner affronted him but Thorin felt as if he had no choice. The bed made up on the floor of the forge belonged to a young lad who occasionally came over from a neighbouring farm to help and who then stayed the night. How could he turn away a traveller – and a woman at that? What would be the depth of his guilt if anything happened to her? He felt like telling her that she should be the one to sleep in the forge but, instead, he growled: "Take the bed but keep your money."

A flicker of surprise passed over her face which angered him further. "Of course," he almost said, "we dwarves are so acquisitive, I suppose you expected me to charge double?"

She unbuckled her pack from her horse before following him to the hall. She saw that there was only a single room with a bed and a large chest in one corner and a table and chair in the other. He removed a clean shirt and some night attire from the chest, picked up a loaf of bread and a slab of cheese from the table and stomped out muttering that he would attend to her horse. There goes one bad-tempered dwarf, she thought. But I suppose I did take his bed. She set down her bow and quiver, unstrapped her knives and then sat on the chair and opened her pack. For a moment, she looked inside, then closed it, and, picking it up, took it back to the forge.

As she pushed open the door and walked in, she found Thorin in the process of slipping his shirt over his head, his apron and singlet now discarded on the floor. He flushed and snarled: "Is there no place in my own home where I can have some privacy?"

Tauriel reddened too and began backing out of the door. "I'm sorry. I only thought I'd share some of my supplies with you."

She turned to go and her embarrassment made Thorin feel mean-spirited and uncomfortable. He took two quick steps across the room and touched her arm. As she turned back towards him, he said quietly, "Thank you. It was a kind thought."

Tauriel realised that when he wasn't shouting or snapping at her, he had a deep, rumbling voice that had a certain warmth about it. "It isn't much," she said, "only some lembas bread and a bottle of wine." She glanced down at his hand that still rested lightly on her arm and he hastily withdrew it as if she burned him.

He gestured to a work table and she sat down and produced her supplies from her bag.

He grinned, showing even, white teeth and she suddenly thought how pleasant he looked. "We dwarves produce a form of lembas bread called cram. It'll be interesting to make a comparison."

She handed over the way bread and he divided his loaf and the cheese then found a couple of mugs for the wine. "Quite a feast!" he smiled.

The wine was a good vintage, the cheese was strong and tasty and Thorin acknowledged the superiority of lembas over cram. By the time they had finished the meal and consumed the bottle of wine, both were feeling mellow and wondering why they had taken such an initial dislike to each other.

Tauriel told Thorin about her dangerous journey from the palace of the elven king, Thranduil, in the forest of Mirkwood, bearing messages to the elves of Ered Luin. Thorin felt that he needed to reciprocate with some details about himself. But the story of Smaug and his exile was just too bitter and hung heavy on his heart. He was ashamed that so many years had passed and still he had failed to regain his kingdom. He had cut his beard and sworn never to grow it again until the dragon was dead and the throne of Erebor was restored to his lineage.

And so, Tauriel didn't know that she broke bread with the King under the Mountain. Instead, he made her laugh with amusing tales of various journeys he had taken in search of work between the Blue Mountains and Bree. They smiled at each other across the table and Thorin thought that, for an elf, she was intelligent and very beautiful; and Tauriel felt that, for a rough smith of a dwarf, he was charming and very handsome.

Perhaps the effects of the wine began to wear off and he sobered a little but Thorin's smile slowly disappeared from his face. He looked at her intently and she looked back thinking that his eyes were a remarkable shade of blue. They sat there quietly for a few minutes, just looking at each other. Then Thorin said, "I think you'd better go back to your room." She understood and nodded, rising reluctantly from her chair but, before leaving the forge, she reached out to brush his hand gently with long, cool fingers to show that she appreciated the connection that had been made between elf and dwarf.

Thorin sat there for some time, feeling a confusion of emotions. He closed his eyes and the touch of her fingers still remained on the back of his hand. Then he sighed and got up.

She had left her pack behind on the floor. Better not return it to her tonight, he grinned to himself, in case she's pulling some item of clothing over her head. It was a nice thought to take to his bed, but he picked up the pack to place it on the table in full view in case she forgot it tomorrow morning.

His brow furrowed because, although it looked almost empty, it was surprisingly heavy. Another bottle of wine? A concealed weapon? He wasn't quite sure what made him do it but he took a peek inside: a small bundle of letters - for Thranduil, he supposed - some items of clothing, a few packets of lembas bread and that was it – except for something wrapped in velvet at the bottom of the bundle.

Curiosity overcame him and he unrolled the velvet. Inside was a jewelled dagger in a scabbard. It was the most exquisitely made item he had ever seen and his hands trembled as he held it up to the light of the lantern. Both the dagger and its sheath were made of gold, cunningly wrought and inlaid with patterns of mithril. Precious stones were embedded in the hilt and had been used to trace a delicate pattern down the scabbard. It must be a gift for Thranduil. But Thorin's mouth curled in a sneer. No elf would ever appreciate such workmanship and beauty as he did. And, just for a moment, his desire for it was so great that Thorin thought of stealing it and hiding it so that this treasure could always be his.

But that thought quickly passed. Stealing it might not be a good idea but hiding it, as he intended to hide his new blade, was. He had made it a regular habit to hide anything valuable in a special cubby-hole in his forge. The raids by goblins were becoming more daring and Thorin had been obsessed with protecting his few possessions ever since the depredations of Smaug.

And so he hid the dagger and the blade, then collapsed upon his bed into a very heavy and slightly drunken sleep.

Tauriel was up at dawn and ready to go. She had to make up for lost time and had intended to sneak away before Thorin awoke. After the previous night had aroused in her some unexpectedly tender feelings for him, she thought it best if they never saw each other again. Such emotions were just too strange for her to cope with.

Unfortunately, her pack was still in the forge. This was not a big problem for her and with the stealth that Thorin had observed, she crept back into his room, where he still slept soundly, and removed her bag from the table.

She froze. The bag was so light that she knew immediately that the precious dagger was gone. What had he intended to do? Replace it with a stone or a metal tool so that she would leave without suspecting anything? She had always been told that the avarice of dwarves knew no bounds. Surely he guessed that she would come back for it? Did he mean to kill her? He was only a poor smith without honour who greedily coveted her gold, but he was powerfully built and, for a moment, she doubted her ability to overcome him in a straight fight. Part of her could not believe what she was thinking. But the dagger was gone and, for her own safety, she had to believe that all things were possible. For a moment, she felt sick and swayed slightly but she knew what she had to do.

She slid her bow silently from her shoulder, then drew an arrow and nocked it. Taking aim, she moved forward to the bed where Thorin lay still fully clothed, sprawled on his back with one arm raised above his head. She kicked him in the ribs – hard – then jumped back quickly.

She had to admit, he had a lightning response. He pulled himself out of sleep and was on his feet in a fraction of a second, ready to attack the attacker. "Stay where you are or you're a dead dwarf," she snarled. When he saw the arrow pointing at his heart, he stopped in his tracks.

"I might have known that no elf can trust a dwarf!" she said angrily.

He gave a confused blink that made him look so innocent that, for a moment, she softened; but then she forced herself to harden her heart again. "Where have you hidden the dagger?"

Thorin's eyes slid to a corner of the room. "Get it, "she said. "And move slowly."

He certainly moved slowly, aware all the time of that lethal arrow. He retrieved the dagger, placed it on the table between them and took two paces back. He looked at her steadily and then said: "I hid it, not to steal it, but to keep it safe."

Tauriel wanted to believe him but knew that she couldn't take the risk. "Pick up that pair of manacles," she said coldly, pointing to a set that he had recently made for the local lock-up, "and chain your wrist to that pillar." He wrapped the chain about the pillar and locked himself into the cuffs. "Now throw the key across the room."

"If you leave me like this, how do I set myself free? It might be days before anyone comes to the forge," Thorin said quietly but his eyes pleaded with her.

"That's your problem," she replied, and, feeling like a cold-blooded murderer for abandoning him in this isolated spot, she returned the dagger to her pack and left the room.

Soon, he heard the clatter of hooves as she galloped away. All he could do was sit and wait. He knew that the young farm lad was expected on the following morning, but the hours were long and uncomfortable and gave him plenty of time to think about the treachery of elves and of the treachery of beautiful, female elves in particular. By the time he was freed, his anger was as white hot as his forge on a good day. He would never, never forgive her and, if he should ever meet her again, he would put his hands about that lovely neck... And then he thought a bit about just how lovely her neck was, before going back to making a vengeful list of all the ways in which he would make her sorry for what she had just done.

* * *

It was strange, Thorin found himself thinking a few months later, how his life had dragged on for years, day after day, in a seemingly endless stretch of tomorrows. And then suddenly, the wizard had turned up on his doorstep only a week after Tauriel's departure with ideas for defeating Smaug and retrieving the treasure.

His journey back to the Lonely Mountain with a company of dwarves and an irritating hobbit (elves or hobbits – which did he despise more?) had been a succession of crises and dangers. He remembered how horrified he had been that night when Tauriel had told him about the dangers she herself had faced along the same route and he had been deeply concerned for her safety. She had smiled and said she was well able to look after herself. She was a captain of the king's guard, an effective fighter and the type of person who never took chances. Well, she had certainly demonstrated how well she was able to look after herself the following morning. That was months ago and he still felt bruised and hurt by the encounter, going over again and again in his mind everything they had said to each other.

It was like picking at a scab and he thrust such thoughts away. There were far more important things to think about at the moment – like saving his men from dying of thirst and starvation. They were lost deep in the heart of the dark and fearsome forest of Mirkwood. Their only chance of survival was to find the elves of the forest and plead with them for food.

Suddenly, just ahead, Thorin saw lights and could hear the sound of laughter and elven music. There was a group of them, feasting in a magical and protective circle of light. He still hated elves but he felt a responsibility for his men and so he walked boldly into the charmed circle. The startled elves turned to confront him and one stood up and stepped forwards.

"Tauriel!" he said bitterly. She looked into his cold, blue eyes and saw the hatred there before they fluttered and rolled in his head and he fell into an unconscious trance on the ground.

"Tie him up and take him to the dungeons!" she ordered.

Pt II

Thorin gained full consciousness after a guard dug him with the shaft of his spear. He felt as if he had the world's worst hangover without having experienced any of the benefits of a good night out. He groaned and sat up, clutching his head and squinting painfully through half-closed eyes.

He was sitting on a cold, stone floor, leaning against an equally cold, stone wall. He seemed to be in some kind of guardhouse. Two elves stood close by with spears; one of his wrists was chained to a metal ring in the floor; and Tauriel sat opposite him behind a wooden table, looking rather officious, he thought.

"Well, whatever that was, you should bottle it," he grimaced, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to shake the mists from his eyes. The guards grinned until Tauriel cast them an admonitory look at which their faces regained their original blank expression.

"Is this a hobby of yours?" he asked.

"A hobby?" She looked puzzled.

"Chaining up strange men. That's twice you've cornered me. What's the attraction?"

Again, the elves' mouths twitched and Tauriel realised that there were a number of reasons why she didn't want them present in the room. She dismissed them and they went outside to guard the door.

Thorin was gradually assessing, as his wits returned, that all his weapons and most of his outer clothing, including his boots, had been stripped from him. He could understand why his sword, Orcrist, and his bow were missing, and even perhaps his chain mail, but they had also taken his furs, his fine velvet surcoat, his beautiful silver and mithril belt and his heavy rings. Dressed only in a dark blue shirt and breeches, he no longer looked like Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain, but like the humble smith that she had first seen.

"Why have you taken my clothes?" he asked.

Tauriel leaned back in her chair and smiled sweetly.

"Ah, yes. We find there are a number of reasons for stripping a prisoner. If he's cold, the fight goes out of him. If he has no boots, he is less likely to run away."

"And a prisoner's valuables? Like his rings and mithril belt?"

Tauriel leaned forward again and gave Thorin a hard look.

"Well, we confiscate items that have obviously been stolen by known thieves."

Thorin's mouth opened and closed again. Yes, he could see why she would think that: one day a poor country blacksmith from the wilds of the Blue Mountains, the next, a well-dressed, beringed warrior dwarf running around Mirkwood with a band of companions. He could understand why the she was suspicious but he felt relieved that he had told her nothing about himself when they'd first met. And the elves would find out nothing from him now either - neither about his origins nor his quest.

It galled him to think how many labelled the dwarves as greedy. Yet Thranduil and the Wood-elves were known to lust after silver and white stones. And although the hoard of the elven king was great, he was always eager for more since he had less than the other elf lords. One cause for bad feeling between the elves and dwarves in ages past involved an incident when Thranduil had bargained with the dwarves of Erebor to shape their raw gold and silver into precious objects and had afterwards refused to pay them. The dwarves had kept the elven treasures and a war had been fought over it. Ultimately, Smaug was the only winner. But if Thranduil found out that Thorin had a plan to reclaim his kingdom and his gold, then he would want a share and the dwarves would have to pay heavily for their release.

So, he thought, it all went back to that misunderstanding over the golden dagger, did it? Once more, Thorin felt the pain and anger of that day. He was insulted by her opinion of him and yet knew he couldn't and shouldn't say anything in his own defence. He glared up at her from under his dark brows whilst she seemed to stare arrogantly down at him. My, he would like to wipe that look from her face, but he would have to let her win this round. He had looked in her pack and found the dagger but she had obviously not opened the lid of his chest because the chest contained all the items from a previous life, including furs and fine clothing. And in his hiding-place in the forge were weapons, the rings, his mithril belt and a bag of gold that had been saved carefully over the years of his exile. After Gandalf's visit, he had rounded up his 12 companions, dressed himself once more as Thorin Oakenshield, bought horses and provisions and set off at last for the Lonely Mountain.

And now, one beautiful elf warrior was trying to thwart him.

In fact, Tauriel was not feeling in the least bit arrogant. She was, instead, feeling very confused. It had been disturbing to see Thorin again after all these months – and so unexpectedly too. As he had marched so confidently into their magic circle with his sword and bow strapped across his back, his fine mail shirt and his valuable accessories, he looked like a great dwarven war-lord and, for a moment, she almost didn't recognise him – until he said her name. She had reacted to his presence with the utmost suspicion particularly after his men were also captured. What were they doing here? Why were they dressed so well? Where were they going? She had no answer to these questions. But, for some reason, those dark blue eyes which now glared at her with such contempt, were making her feel very uncomfortable.

There was a knock at the door and one of the guards entered. "The king is ready to see him now," he said.

They unchained him but bound his hands with ropes behind his back instead. He was escorted up several flights of stairs and into the presence of Thranduil.

Thranduil's palace was a vast, natural cave system, made beautiful through the creativity of the elves. The caves were set on the banks of a river and although they provided shelter, particularly in winter, many of the elves preferred to live outdoors, in their large and intricate tree houses.

Thranduil's hall was a fine space and Thorin looked around with genuine interest comparing it to the dwarven halls of Erebor. The king was tall and elegant and sat on a throne made of twisted gold that looked almost as if it grew and was a living thing.

Thorin and Thranduil looked at each other for a few long moments, trying to assess each other. It was Thorin who broke the silence first with his most pressing question.

"Where are my men?" The other dwarves had been holding back some distance behind him when he had entered the circle but he hadn't seen them since he lost consciousness and they were nowhere in the hall.

"It is for me to ask the questions and for you to answer," retorted Thranduil sharply. "You will tell me why you attacked my people."

Thorin snorted. "I think if I meant to attack anyone, I would have had my sword in my hand and not strapped to my back. We were lost and starving in the forest and only wanted to beg for food."

"And what were you doing in the forest?"

"Looking for food because we were starving."

"But what brought you to the forest in the first place?" Thranduil was beginning to get angry.

Thorin thought it was time to shut his mouth and refused to answer.

"Very well," said the king, "take him away and keep him safe until he feels inclined to tell the truth, even if he waits a hundred years."

It was at that moment that Tauriel stepped foward. She was also annoyed that they seemed no closer to finding out what Thorin had been doing in Mirkwood. She had a piece of extra information and had been mulling over whether or not she should tell Thranduil. Of course, she persuaded herself, it was her duty, but a secret little something deep down inside of her wanted to hurt Thorin. She wasn't quite sure why and was afraid to examine her motives.

"My lord, I know this dwarf," she said loudly and with authority. All eyes turned towards her, including Thorin's. The king nodded for her to continue. "He is a blacksmith from Ered Luin. I stopped at his forge when my horse cast a shoe." She could have ended there but she didn't. "This dwarf is a thief. He tried to steal the gift of the golden dagger from my pack but I discovered the theft, chained him up in his forge and left him." An amused ripple of laughter ran around the room as the elves looked at their slender captain and the muscular Thorin. Tauriel continued: "He was a poor dwarf, living simply. Now he possesses furs and velvets, gold and mithril, and a superb sword which appears to have been crafted by the elves."

She gestured to one of her men to bring forward the sword and Thranduil examined it.

"This is a Sindarin blade – a great sword of my people," he said angrily. "Where did you get this from?"

Thorin compressed his lips but still refused to answer. Orcrist was, indeed, a famed sword of elven make, taken legitimately from a troll hoard. But, perhaps it was for the best that they thought that he and his company were a band of thieves and brigands. However, it didn't get him any closer to freedom. What shocked him was the pain he had felt when Tauriel had said her piece. He had no reason to expect her to say otherwise, but somehow it had felt like a betrayal.

"Take him to a cell," said the king. And as Thorin was led away, he sent Tauriel such a look that she felt as if he had punched her and she took a step backwards. Thranduil gestured her to his side and spoke quietly in her ear. "There is more to this dwarf, I believe, than we yet know. It will be your especial duty to guard him and question him. Engage him in casual conversation and see if he lets anything slip."

She bowed and followed Thorin back down to the cell block. Part of her welcomed this duty and part of her feared it...And she didn't know why.

The cell allotted to Thorin was on the lowest level and the only one there. The immediate area was also used to store barrels of wine that were shipped up the river from Lake Town. The mouth of the cave opened here upon a small quay and watching the coming and going of boats and barrels on the river would afford Thorin some means to idle away the time over the next few days.

After they had descended from Thranduil's hall, Tauriel made sure that his cell was secured, sent the two guards off to fetch blankets, food and water and then took a seat opposite him again.

"Well done, Tauriel," he said when they were alone. "You must feel a lot better for that. What have I done to deserve your spite?" When she returned no answer, only a cool stare, he continued: "I kept your dagger safe, along with my own valuables, but get accused of theft. You leave me chained up in my own forge after I gave you shelter for the night, without any concern that I might have died there. I took you into my home when you were too afraid to go on in the dark. But, when I turn up starving on your doorstep, you render me unconscious, chain and bind me once more, strip me of nearly everything and encourage your king to imprison me for some unnamed length of time..." He paused and then said, "I thought you were a friend...You touched my hand," and this came out more bitterly than any of the rest.

He stood there, gripping the bars. Tauriel felt glad that the bars separated them because she could feel the heat of his anger even at this distance. When he put things like that, he made her feel like the worst elf to walk Middle-earth. Had she misjudged him? She didn't know and there was no way he could prove what he was saying. But a little well of misery bubbled up inside her and she remembered how she had touched his hand because she had been drawn to him. Suddenly, she wanted to apologise. Of course, she didn't. But she did say quietly: "I think you would have behaved the same way if our positions had been reversed."

For a moment, he continued to glare at her, but suddenly he threw back his handsome head with its black, shaggy mane and laughed. She was startled but he grinned, his mood completely changed. "Yes, you're right, I think I would have done. Perhaps we're more alike than either of us think."

The food and water arrived then and Tauriel felt even more guilty as he gulped down the water and wolfed the food. He really had been starving.

Suddenly, there was a shout from the quay as a new cargo arrived and Tauriel went outside to make sure that everything was being overseen properly.

"Thank goodness for that! I thought she'd never go," said Bilbo's voice close to Thorin's ear. Thorin jumped. But it was indeed the hobbit wearing his ring of invisibility. "They've captured all the other dwarves and they're being held in cells on the next floor up," he continued.

Thorin heaved a sigh of relief. "Have they been interviewed by Thranduil yet?" he asked urgently. "Tell them they mustn't say a thing about who we are and where we're going."

"Don't worry," said Bilbo, "Balin's got that all under control. Just give me a few days and I'll think up a plan to get us out of here – although that could prove tricky with such a big, strong gate and so many guards. Now just get that captain involved in casual conversation. Make her relax. Don't let her think we're up to something." With that, Bilbo saw Tauriel heading back to the cell area and Thorin could hear his little furry feet go pattering away and back up the stairs.

"I'll get you some more food," she said genially. His laughter had somehow improved the atmosphere between them greatly. "And, now that the new supplies have come in, you might even get a cup of wine. We don't mistreat our prisoners, even if you're under the impression that we do."

The food and wine arrived and Tauriel sat down to join him. Apart from the bars separating them, it was almost like the evening they had spent together in his forge. She told him about her life as a captain of the guard, the different journeys she had made to all the corners of Middle-earth in the king's service, and, more immediately, the forays into the forest to do battle with the fearsome spiders of Mirkwood. He did his best to appear to be sharing confidences but without giving anything important away. He told her how his grandfather had been killed by orcs and how his father, suffering from depression, had set out on a journey in recent years but had never returned. His mother was dead too and now he only had a sister and two nephews whom he saw infrequently. He didn't tell her that these nephews were languishing in the cells upstairs. Nor did he mention Smaug or the Lonely Mountain but led her to believe that his family had lived all their lives in Ered Luin.

She began to feel that strange tenderness towards him that she had felt before. He seemed such a lonely man and she wondered if he had chosen the isolated position of his forge on purpose. "Why did you build your forge at that crossroads? Wouldn't you have been better off nearer some small town or village? You'll never find yourself a dwarf wife right out there in the middle of nowhere." She said this last jokingly but for a reason. She wanted to know if there was someone he loved and who loved him.

Thorin considered her remark with a furrowed brow. "I don't think I'll ever find a wife no matter where I live," he said. "There are so few dwarf women that not many of us get the chance of marriage. My sister, Dis, was greatly sought after and married a dwarf that she loved very dearly. But he died when the boys were young. She could have been married again a hundred times over, but she has remained true to her first love."

"We really shouldn't drink together," thought Tauriel, beginning to feel maudlin. Thorin was gazing at the floor, remembering things past. He looked up and was startled to see tears in Tauriel's eyes. "That is such a sad story," she said and he thought she cried for Dis when, in fact, she cried for him. Trying to smile, she said, "So what do you unmarried boys do with your time, then?"

"Well, we make things," he said seriously.

"Make things?" she laughed.

"Yes, that's why so many of us work as smiths. If we cannot find a beautiful dwarf woman, then we must make beauty for ourselves. Our love of wrought silver and gold and precious stones burns fiercely within us. When I saw that dagger, my hands shook with emotion because it was so wonderful to behold."

At this, Tauriel nearly wept again. Thorin had no wife or family and little hope of any and so he completely immersed himself in his craft, making cold metal a substitute for love and warmth and laughter. She wasn't quite sure if she could continue with this conversation and so she busied herself with the platters and poured him another cup of wine. As he reached through the bars to take it, she suddenly took his hand and squeezed it gently. "There WILL be someone," she said.

"You know this?" he asked softly, returning the pressure and pulling her closer. He contemplated yanking her arm through the bars and pulling the long knife from its scabbard on her back. But what then? The keys were on the far side of the room and there were still all his comrades imprisoned upstairs. He knew he had to wait for Bilbo to find a way.

Her face was very close to his. "Yes, I know," she replied.

His eyes glittered and suddenly she was afraid. She let go of his hand and thrust the mug at him. The relief guard came then and she disappeared for some hours, but she was back before dawn, sleeping for the rest of the night on a small truckle bed.

"Well, I don't know what idea Bilbo will come up with," Thorin mused, "but it had better be a clever one. I'm never left alone and I bet the lads upstairs aren't either. We could all do with magic rings."

The morning came and Tauriel went out on the terrace to breathe in the fresh, cool air.

"It's me," said Bilbo in Thorin's ear. "I've got a plan. It will be impossible to escape through the main gate – too many guards and they would overwhelm us immediately, even if I could get you out of your cells. But, see those empty barrels of wine..." Thorin looked and there were many barrels on the quay waiting to be floated back to Lake Town. "If I can help you get out of your cells, then you can climb in those barrels – and away you go!"

"And we'll all probably drown!" exclaimed Thorin.

"All right," said Bilbo sharply. "Sit in your nice cell if you wish until you can think of a better idea!"

Thorin finally had to agree that there was probably no better way. That day there would be a shipment of very fine and famously potent wine. The dwarves had somehow to get their gaolers drunk and then Bilbo would steal the keys and let them out.

Would Tauriel be so easy to manipulate, Thorin wondered?

Tauriel found Thorin morose and withdrawn that day. She wasn't surprised. He must be feeling impatient with his imprisonment. Well, he knew what he had to do to resolve that.

But Thorin was laying plans. He was stretched out on his bunk with his back to the room, working out how he and Bilbo could pull off an escape later that night. And, if they managed to get as far as Lake Town, would the men there welcome them or turn them over to the elves who would, in all probability, pursue them?

Before the dragon came, the men had lived in Dale, a town built close to the dwarven halls deep in the Mountain. They had worked surprisingly well together and both races had grown rich off each other and from their position on the trade routes of Middle-earth. They not only worked with each other but drank with each other and many who visited Dale remarked upon the apparent brotherhood that existed between man and dwarf. Smaug put an end to all that, totally destroying Dale and taking up residence in the Lonely Mountain. The surviving men had decamped with their families to what they thought was a safe distance on the far side of the Lake where they continued to trade from another town that they built there on stilts over the water, whilst the dwarves had left the area entirely, becoming the poor relations of other groups of dwarves and finally settling and working as smiths in the far west beyond the Shire.

The men had never associated much with the elves whom they considered aloof but, they were prepared to sell their wines to them, and regular shipments went up and down the river from Lake Town to Thranduil's palace, twenty miles away. There was no way of knowing how they would respond to the dwarves and Thorin would have to take his chances.

Later that afternoon, the new barrels of wine arrived. Thorin recognised it from all those years ago and grinned to himself as he remembered some inappropriate carousing from his youth when he had suddenly been felled in the middle of a sentence...almost as if he had been smitten by an elven spell, he thought.

When it was time for the evening meal, Tauriel joined him again, pleased to see that he now seemed a lot more cheerful. As he hoped, she offered him a cup of the newly-arrived wine. He laughed and talked, trying to distract her, guessing that Bilbo was often in the room and probably splitting his time between the two cell blocks. He persuaded her to drink another cup with him and then another. But, when Tauriel's back was turned, he would pour much of his into a slop bucket whilst the invisible Bilbo surreptitiously topped up her cup, a little at a time.

Well, she could hold her liquor, he thought as the night wore on, and he began to doubt the success of their plan. Tauriel was feeling very happy. She had laughed so much and Thorin's company made her feel warm and womanly rather than like a captain of the guard. When he smiled at her, his blue eyes crinkled delightfully at the edges. When he sang some mournful dwarven songs in his deep baritone, she was moved and felt his love of beautiful things. In return, she produced a lute and sang an elven song in a sweet, pretty voice and he complimented her on her skill. When she poured him yet another cup of wine and came close to the bars, he suddenly reached out and touched her hair, murmuring that it was like molten gold. She had blushed and downed her own cup of wine very quickly in order to cover her embarrassment.

Her feelings for this dwarf were very troubling but his steady gaze through long, dark eyelashes seemed to say that he returned those feelings. She suddenly found the need to lay her head on the table whilst she thought seriously about these difficult matters... And Thorin and Bilbo both let out an audible sigh of relief as she began to snore gently.

"Phew! She's got a lot more stamina than the guard upstairs," exclaimed Bilbo softly. "Our friends are free and waiting." He unlocked Thorin and the other dwarves crept into the room. They greeted him silently with raised salutes and punches to the shoulder. Faint streaks of light were showing in the sky as they passed out of the cave and onto the quay. Thorin paused and gently caressed Tauriel's hair which was spilled across the table. "It was no lie," he thought. "It IS like molten gold." He tried not to think about her reaction when she woke up or the trouble he had doubtless got her into.

Pt III

Tauriel was brought to her senses by a violent shaking.

"They've gone! They've gone, sir!"

She was immediately alert and her heart sank to the pit of her stomach when she saw Thorin's empty cell. An agitated quay man rushed her outside and pointed down the river where she could see in the far distance a barrel bobbing in the water.

"They've escaped in the barrels, sir! I'd just come on duty when I saw the last one pushing off!"

Leaving instructions that the man should get an audience with Thranduil as soon as possible so that he could tell the king what had happened and what his captain of the guard had decided to do about it, she grabbed her weapons and ran to the main gate where several horses were always kept ready for messengers.

She was pleased to see that the grumpy horse who had carried her to Ered Luin and back again was one of the group. In her mind, she had called him Thorin because, not only was he black-haired and bad-tempered, he was bloody-minded and determined too. If any horse could get her quickly to Lake Town over 20 miles of rough ground, it was this one.

It was a bad road because it was so little used. Boats were a smoother and more convenient mode of transport, particularly favoured by the elves. Its one advantage was that it took a less winding and tortuous path than the river and so was usually faster. Tauriel urged her horse at a fair speed along the path. It ran in quite a straight line, occasionally touching the river, but more often the river wound its way out of sight as it curved its way to the lake. When the river did touch the road, she caught brief glimpses of the barrels, sometimes bobbing along erratically in quite rough water. "And I hope he breaks his neck!"

She really meant it. She couldn't believe that the delightful, charming dwarf who had sung her songs and complimented her and touched her hair so gently had done this to her. It was not so much that she would be reduced to the ranks for letting her prisoner escape, but that she had been tricked and deceived by someone she had learned to like. And, perhaps it was a bit more than mere liking too. There was a painful sensation around her heart that she had never felt before. Had it all been a tissue of lies and pretence just to catch her off-guard and to assist him in his escape? She had to allow that it must have been and it was a bitter pill to swallow.

It was three hours before she was on the last straight stretch to Lake Town. Tauriel could see them quite clearly now, and all the barrels had survived. They were still ahead of her but she wasn't far behind and she would round them up once she reached the town. By the time she had arrived at the main square of the town which was adjacent to the quay, she could see the last dwarves scrambling out of the water. A large crowd was beginning to assemble and she was forced to watch the events unfold from the rear. Her position on the horse gave her a good view and she was suddenly aware of another horse sidling up next to her own.

"Good morning, Captain! To what do we owe the pleasure?" It was Bard who held an equivalent position to her own among the men of the town. He had a stern face but she knew him to be a decent man, an excellent officer and a bowman as accurate as any that Mirkwood could produce.

"I've come to collect some escaped prisoners," she said, nodding towards the dwarves who, led by Thorin, were mounting an auction podium, apparently about to address the crowd. "I'd appreciate your cooperation."

Bard didn't answer but raised his hand to show that he wanted to listen to what the dwarves had to say.

The dwarves looked a bedraggled and rag-tag bunch. Like Thorin, they had all been stripped down to their shirts and breeches. They were now soaking wet and some of them were bruised and bleeding from their rough passage. Thorin stepped forward and mounted the auctioneer's block so that everyone could see him. He drew himself up and flung back his head proudly. His eyes were dark and flashing as they swept the crowd and, even without his fine clothes, he looked like the war-lord that Tauriel had seen when he had suddenly appeared at their feasting.

There was an expectant hush and Thorin announced in a loud and thrilling voice:

"I am Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King under the Mountain! I have returned!"

There was a stunned silence and Tauriel believed that she was more stunned than anyone.

A king! How dare he! How dare he pretend all this time that he was nothing but a poor smith! Letting her think he was a thief! Allowing her to chain him up – twice! Letting Thranduil imprison him without revealing his status! Once she got her hands on him...

"I want you to arrest those dwarves!" she snapped at Bard.

"I think that might be a bit of a problem," he replied and an unaccustomed grin spread slowly across his face. The crowd had erupted into explosive cheers. Caps were being tossed in the air and the dwarves were being hoisted onto willing shoulders and were even now being paraded down the street to the grand house of the Master of Lake Town.

Tauriel didn't understand their response and she looked wonderingly at Bard. "Well, you see," he smiled, "when the King under the Mountain returns:

His wealth shall flow in fountains

And the rivers golden run.

And I don't think you'll be able to take the people's golden king away from them." He bowed to Tauriel and rode off down the street to the Master's House.

A few hours later, in the local inn, Tauriel was writing a letter to Thranduil, informing him of the unexpected turn of events in Lake Town and asking for permission to stay on and keep an eye on the situation. Her thoughts were so disordered and her emotions in such disarray that she could hardly hold the pen.

Things moved quickly in the next few days. The greedy Master of the town saw his way to wealth and riches. He clothed the dwarves and equipped them with weapons, food and ponies and talked to everyone enthusiastically about the end of the dragon's reign. The townsfolk were behind him and the dwarves all the way. Many of them could often be found on the quay, staring at the water, as if the river of gold was about to manifest itself any minute. And when Tauriel tried to get an audience with the Master, she was refused. The people, discovering her purpose in the town, glared at her in the street. But, Thranduil sent her messages encouraging her to stay on there. Now that he knew Thorin's purpose, he too was very interested in the dragon's treasure.

Failing to gain an interview with the Master, Tauriel visited Bard. He was polite and gracious but told her to give up all idea of re-arresting the dwarves. "They are not who you thought they were. Tomorrow, they will set off to confront Smaug in the Lonely Mountain. Their plans are not completely foolhardy. They organised this quest on the advice of the wizard, Gandalf; Thorin has his father's map which will take them into the heart of the Mountain by a secret door; and they have the help of a hobbit, a creature, so it is said, who has skill in retrieving treasure stolen by a dragon. You should return home to Mirkwood, Tauriel. There is nothing for you here."

"But how can thirteen dwarves and one hobbit overcome Smaug. Surely they will all be killed?"

"And if they die, then that is the risk they have chosen to take." Bard shrugged. "Our town will then get over its gold-fever and return to making money in harder ways. Apart from the cost of equipping them, it will be of little loss to us."

Tauriel walked through the streets that evening until she came to the mansion that had been handed over to the dwarves for their use whilst they were in Lake Town. She asked the servant who opened the door to inform Thorin that she wanted to speak with him. She almost expected to be turned away as she had been at the Master's House but first she was asked politely to wait in the hall and then she was shown upstairs to an attractive room that overlooked the town. It was hung with elegant tapestries and furnished with highly polished furniture that smelled of beeswax and a large, curtained bed filled a whole corner. It was empty and, while she waited for him, she gazed out of the window and wondered what she was doing there. Perhaps it was her duty to find out as much as possible before the dwarves left so that she could report back to Thranduil. Perhaps she wanted an explanation from him as to why everything he had told her about himself had been a lie. Perhaps she just wanted a damned good row with him so that she could get a few things off her chest. Or perhaps what she really wanted was to be told that those gentle touches and piercing looks and soft words had all meant something.

Tauriel felt sad and miserable – and she also felt afraid. He was a fool if he thought he could defeat Smaug and soon he would be dead. She wondered if there was any way in which she could stop him. Surely it was better to be a live smith than a dead king?

As Thorin walked down the corridor to his room, he smiled to himself. She had come at last and he was almost looking forward to the row he was confident would erupt between them. Why else would she come? It was just like a woman to want the last word. Well, he would let her have the last word if it meant he would see her again. He owed her that, at least. He expected her to storm across the room spitting blood and ready to tear his eyes out. There would be a tussle and he would pick her up and whirl her around and kiss her. And then she would forgive him.

But, when he entered, she was standing with her forehead leaning against the glass of the window. She looked sad and fragile and he wanted to fold her to his broad chest where he could protect her and keep her safe.

"Tauriel," he said. She turned and looked across the room at him with her large eyes.

"You go to your death tomorrow. Your life is worth more than all the yellow gold in a thousand mountains. Why do you cast it away so cheaply?"

"I do not risk death for a dragon's hoard," he answered her. "I risk it for my people and for my father and my father's father and to wipe out the memory of my friends burning and dying and to stop my ears so that I can no longer hear their screams. I have lived in shame since the day the dragon came and now the time has come for me to win back my honour and the honour of my house."

As a soldier, she understood honour. And she now knew there was no arguing with him. She crossed the room and laid her hand upon his chest, bowing her head in defeat. He placed his huge hand on top of hers and with the other gently lifted her chin. For a long time they looked into each others' eyes and they knew that no explanations were needed. She bent forward a little. It was a signal and he touched his lips to hers.

Thorin had never kissed a woman before and he felt like a fumbling youth. His lips brushed feather-light and tentative over hers, and he was afraid that his rough, dwarven ways would offend her. But, she seized the plaits that hung before his ears and smilingly pulled his mouth down hard upon her own.

As their kisses deepened, his hand ran down her long fall of silken hair to her slender waist. It finally came to rest in the delicate small of her back and he pulled her fiercely to him. "I shall break you," he whispered against her mouth. Her lips curved under his in a laugh. "It's more difficult to break a captain of the guard than you might think," she said. And so he kissed her harder and held her more tightly within the circle of his powerful arms.

At last, he set her from him with a long exhalation of breath. This moment had happened before, back in his forge. "Time to go home, Tauriel," he said gently.

She remembered that last time and regretted it. If she hadn't gone to her room, all that stupid misunderstanding over the dagger would never have happened.

"I have no home, Thorin," she said quietly, "unless it is with you."

He put his hands upon her shoulders, his penetrating eyes gazing seriously into her own. "You know you cannot come with us tomorrow?" She nodded. "Any home you have with me will only be for this night or if I return from the Mountain."

"I choose this night," she said. "And I pray for many other nights."

With a tender sigh, he pulled her to him again. His lips closed over her mouth and he kissed her passionately, thinking that a life spent with her was worth all the treasures in a dragon's hoard.

And yet, he knew his quest must first be fulfilled.

"The morning will come too soon," he said. And he drew her to his bed.

Pt IV

The dawn had come and now Tauriel watched him depart. She stood at the window again as he and his troop of dwarves rode out of the town. At the bend in the road, he turned and looked back at her, raising his hand in a salute. The townspeople cheered and ran after them, seeing them well on their way.

Just before dawn, as he had showered hot kisses on her face and her long, white throat, he had made her promise that she would return to her people in Mirkwood. "Wait for me there. It's best not to be alone..." Just in case, he might have added.

But now, another letter had come from Thranduil telling her to remain in the town, even though the dwarves had gone. She wondered why; but the elven king was secretly mustering his forces for his own hidden purposes. And so Tauriel kicked her heels at the inn, waiting, worrying and wondering as the days dragged by, longing for Thorin's return but desperately fearing the outcome of his mission.

When the horror finally happened, it came swooping down from the Mountain out of a blue sky. Years later, she would still remember the clanging bells, the screaming, the fire and smoke, the burning houses, the confusion, the blackened dead, the horribly wounded. And, just as suddenly, it was all over. She had been running to join the group of archers on the quay who were desperately trying to bring the dragon down. Through the thick smoke, she saw Bard calmly and steadily draw back his bow and Smaug fell, plunging and jerking into the lake, disappearing under the churning water in a great hiss of steam.

But the horror continued. The town was totally destroyed. Many of the survivors were wounded and supplies of food were very low. Miserably, in the cold and wet autumnal weather, the refugees tried to build shelters on the shores of the lake and scavenged for berries in the woods. Bard was everywhere, trying to organise the encampment while Tauriel worked with a group of women tending the injured. Many of the townspeople just sat listlessly on the ground in shock.

Help came from an unexpected quarter when Thranduil arrived with an elven force. The soldiers set about erecting wooden huts and shared their supplies with the hungry people. Thranduil called Tauriel to a meeting with the Master and Bard and their conclusions wrung her heart with misery. The dwarves must be dead. Somehow, they had stirred up Smaug's fury and he had descended upon the town. The leaders decided that they would march on the Mountain and claim the treasure which would make reparation for all the suffering they had endured over the years.

It seemed to Tauriel that the following days of preparation and then the march with the two armies of elves and men to the Mountain passed in a nightmarish dream.

And then the ecstasy and the joy as she discovered that Thorin was still alive, walled in with his men behind the Gate of their ancestral home!

The armies were encamped some distance from the Gate and, although she longed to see Thorin, she had to wait whilst Bard and Thranduil marched backwards and forwards negotiating with the dwarves. But, to her horror, hard words turned to threats, then to anger and then to violence. The arrival of the dwarf, Dain, with an army at his back, finally tipped the balance and, suddenly, they were all lined up for battle.

And battle would have been joined if it had not been for the arrival of Gandalf with even more terrifying news: a huge army of goblins and wargs, also in search of the dragon's hoard, was approaching and the wizard urged them to put aside their differences and join forces against a common foe.

From behind his wall, Thorin brooded on events. The threats offered by the two armies and the way they had tried to force his hand with strength of arms and blackmail had made him angrier than he had felt in a long time. The destruction of the town was a tragedy for the lake dwellers, but he could not consider reparation whilst two armies were camped on his doorstep. Thank goodness he had told Tauriel to go back to Mirkwood and she had not had to endure the attack of the dragon or any of the misery of the past few weeks.

Suddenly Dain approached the Wall and called up to him the news of the fast approaching goblin hordes.

"Come out and join us, Thorin," he cried, but the king withdrew from the Wall and refused to talk about it further.

The armies took up their battle lines on two spurs that jutted out from near the Gate, the elves on one, the men and dwarves on the other whilst a line of brave men acted as a lure in the valley between. Thorin watched these preparations with sullen obduracy but just when it seemed his mood was intractable, vast numbers of goblins and wargs came pouring into the valley and he could see that they would be an overwhelming force. He knew that he could stand by no longer.

"Arm yourselves!" he suddenly called to his men and they cheered and rushed to the armoury to select the best from the dragon's hoard.

The combined forces of men, elves and dwarves were slowly being pushed back when the wall in front of the Gate suddenly crashed down and Thorin and his company emerged, splendid in their battle gear, fearsome and menacing, amed with axes and swords. The sun glittered on Thorin's golden armour as he stood on the pile of rubble and, in a great voice, rallied all the allies to his side.

"To me! To me! Elves and Men! To me, my kin!" he cried, and his voice sounded like a horn in the valley.

On the southern spur, Tauriel had used up her arrows long ago and now fought with her two long knives. When she heard his shout and the answering roar from the armies, her heart lifted and she steadily began to fight her way down the spur and across the valley hoping to reach his side.

The appearance of the dwarves gave the allies new courage and, following Thorin, they burst through the ranks of the goblins and the wargs, leaving a trail of destruction behind them. As the day wore on and the piles of the dead grew higher, the advantage swayed first with one side and then with the other until at last the orcs and goblins, under their great leader, Bolg, began to close in behind Thorin so that all those who were with him were surrounded.

Fili and Kili, Thorin's nephews, fought alongside their uncle and, together, they were a terrifying force, their swords and axes rising and falling and their faces fierce and shining with the joy of battle. They steadily got nearer and nearer to Bolg and Thorin thought that, if only he could kill the huge goblin chieftain, then his army, confused and leaderless, would disperse. Bolg was surrounded by a bodyguard of equally large orcs but the three kinsmen were slaughtering everyone who crossed their path. Then, suddenly, Fili was pierced with an arrow and Kili, falling on his knees in dismay beside his dying brother, was run through with an orcish blade.

Thorin, reckless with anger and grief, drove straight through the bodyguard in his rage and finally found himself confronting Bolg. The goblin was a skilful and powerful opponent but he fell back before Thorin's onslaught. Thorin raised his sword to deliver the killing blow but, suddenly, a wounded bodyguard, seeing his leader's plight, made a last, desperate attempt to save him and Thorin fell, pierced by a spear.

Bolg yelled triumphantly and drew back his sword to decapitate the fallen dwarf when a screaming elven warrior, her knives spinning at dazzling speed, knocked the blade from his hand. Behind her came lumbering Beorn, the shapeshifter, who seized the goblin chieftain with his great paws and, clutching him in a fearsome bear hug, crushed him to a pulp, discarding his limp body on the ground. The goblins, seeing their master's lifeless corpse, began to wail and retreat, but Tauriel knelt by Thorin's side, protecting him with her body as the battle ebbed and flowed around them.

The great bear bent and, gently lifting Thorin in his arms, carried him safely from the fray, setting him down on the hillside in the shade of a tree. Tauriel desperately removed his helm and breastplate so that she could examine his injury. Thorin's face was grey and covered with a slick sheen. The spear point had pierced his side at a joint in the armour and the wound was bleeding profusely.

"Thranduil!" she yelled as she saw the elf king examining his own wounded lying stricken and slain on the hillside. He came to her and saw that it was Thorin. "Help him!" she pleaded.

"Why should I help a dwarf in the evening who was prepared to do battle with me in the morning? I have enough of my own wounded to tend to," he said coldly, and he prepared to walk away.

"I ask you because of all that has been between us...And because he is a king, and a great leader," she said desperately, "and because he could have stayed safely behind his wall but he came to help us and turned the tide of battle." She saw that Thranduil hesitated and so, for good measure, she added: "And it might be considered wisdom by some to win the gratitude of the king who owns the dragon's hoard."

Thranduil hesitated no longer but examined Thorin, gesturing to his squire to bring water and clean cloths. He packed the wound with athelas and, then, with the healing plant and with elvish spells he worked on Thorin until he was breathing quietly and a little colour had returned to his face.

Balin and Bilbo and some others of the dwarven company found them then and tenderly they lifted their king and carried him to their halls, deep in the mountain. Tauriel sat by his bed for three days until finally his lids fluttered and he opened his eyes. "Tauriel!" he breathed and then he fell into a deep sleep for two more days.

When Thorin finally gained full consciousness, he found Tauriel sitting by his bed, holding his hand in hers. She looked haggard and full of care. He was so weak he could hardly speak but he pressed her hand and asked for Dain. Now that his nephews were dead, this dwarf, a thoughtful and powerful leader from the Iron Hills, was Thorin's heir and he asked him to take upon himself all decisions that needed to be made whilst he regained his health.

This took some time. He had lost a lot of blood and his wound was slow to heal. When he had first come to his senses and remembered his sister's sons, he had turned his face to the wall and wept. That grief was with him night and day and Tauriel was afraid that his anguish would hinder his recovery.

At last, she was able to help him slowly into the hall of feasting where his company gathered daily. They leapt to their feet and their eyes grew bright and they cheered him until the lofty caverns echoed. He sat at the head of the great table with Dain on his right and Bilbo to his left because he acknowledged that they all owed the hobbit a great debt; for it was he who had found the weak spot in the dragon's armour. But the hobbit was about to depart at last the following day and, although much treasure was pressed upon him, he would take very little.

And so, slowly, Thorin gathered his strength whilst Dain made peace with elves and men, allotting them a fair share of the treasure and offering their dwarven skills which would help to rebuild Dale larger and finer than it had ever been.

But, as each day passed, Thorin grew more and more distant towards Tauriel.

Tauriel's relief and joy that Thorin had survived gradually changed to distress as he withdrew from her. He told her he was well now and no longer needed her sleeping on a pallet in his room. During the evening meal, he was surrounded by people like Dain and was often in deep discussion with them. When he went out riding, he went alone. If they accidentally met, he was polite but aloof, giving her a distant smile – just like an elf, she thought – and, when she had a fever and was ill for days, he never visited her once...Nor had he kissed her since the morning the dwarves had set out for the Mountain.

At first, she tried to excuse him: he was a king with many demands upon his time; he was still getting over the death of his nephews; his wound was painful and left him weak. But, in the end, she knew his avoidance of her was deliberate. She didn't understand and she knew she had to confront him.

She looked for an opportunity and when, one morning, he set out for a ride – alone as usual – she got her horse and followed him. Thorin knew that this moment would have to come and, when he entered a green glade, he brought his horse to a halt and dismounted. She caught up with him and dismounted too. They tethered their horses to a tree and then he bowed courteously and, gesturing towards the banks of a stream that ran close by, he said, "Will you walk with me a little?"

They walked side by side without touching. He's like an acquaintance, she thought, not even a good friend.

In the same polite tones he asked, as if it were no concern of his: "Will you be returning to Mirkwood soon? You must have many duties there."

Thranduil had, in fact, released her temporarily from her duties after the great battle so that she could nurse Thorin. The elven king thought that it was to his advantage to leave Tauriel as an observer in the dwarven stronghold and that the elves would be well rewarded for saving Thorin's life. He wanted no relapses without Tauriel's skilled care.

"Thranduil has given me leave to remain here for as long as you need me," she said. And then she turned to face him. "DO you still need me?" she asked pointedly.

He smiled that awful polite smile again: "My dear Tauriel," he said, like a kindly uncle talking to a young niece, "how could I ever NOT need you? You tended me on the battle-field, have nursed me through my wounds and have been at hand to help me in any way you can."

To Tauriel, it sounded like a form of words.

"But surely we should be considering your needs too and those of your king?" he continued. "You should be home amongst your own people and taking up your guard duties once more."

She made no answer and so he continued again: "You will always have my undying gratitude."

Still she made no answer. She couldn't because her heart had turned to stone.

He pressed on: "My gratitude is such that I have selected a chest of treasure with my own hands for you to take home with you – a mithril shirt, a fine bow, necklaces and rings of great beauty. It is yours when you leave."

He was PAYING her! She looked at him for a moment, her eyes searching his face for the Thorin she had known that night in Lake Town. And then she struck him once, very hard, on the face, strode back to her horse and rode back to the Mountain.

Thorin stood there for a long time. It was best that it ended this way, he thought.

When Thorin got back to the dwarven halls, he called Dain and his company to him. He told them how he was setting out for Ered Luin in a few days. He had to tell his sister about the death of her two sons – and then he would stay in the Blue Mountains where he could be a comfort to her and where he could return to his old life as a smith. He resigned the crown and pronounced Dain King under the Mountain in his place. He would take some of the dragon's gold with him and share it with his sister but the news of his abdication should be kept secret for a week or so until he had personally sent messages to Bard and Thranduil who had returned to their homes.

The next day, Tauriel left for Mirkwood. She didn't see Thorin before she rode out but he had ordered Balin to accompany her as far as Lake Town where he had business. She refused to take the chest of gold which gave Thorin something to think about.

Thorin, in fact, thought too much. Lying on his sick bed, unable to move, he had spent his time thinking about Tauriel. He would lie awake at night and gaze at her beautiful sleeping face as she lay curled up on her pallet. Her nearness tormented him and, at first, he waited for the day when he was strong enough to hold her in his arms once more. But then he had decided to resign his crown. He was a good warrior but not a good king. He had mismanaged events before the Gate and men, elves and dwarves had nearly finished up killing each other.

His thoughts began spiralling off in a host of directions. What would Tauriel think of this decision? Would she want to return with him to Ered Luin to become the wife of a blacksmith when she had thought she would be a queen? In fact, when had she developed a sudden passion for him? Only after she had known he was King under the Mountain in Lake Town? Why had she come to his house? She had practically thrown herself at him. Had she thought that a relationship with Thorin would offer her a chance to get her hands on the dragon's hoard? He had told her to go back to Mirkwood and yet she had stayed in Lake Town. Why? She must have known that Thranduil was gathering an army together and yet she had kept it a secret from him. So, this gave her two chances: if Thorin won, she would become a queen; if Thranduil won, she would doubtless get a cut. And, when he was injured on the battlefield, she must have worked hard to save his life because, with his death, went the opportunity of becoming Queen under the Mountain. He had loved her and now, realising the truth behind her actions, his heart was broken.

Thorin thought until his head hurt and decided that there were only two things he could do. Either he told her about his decision to return to Ered Luin and then ask her if she still wanted to be his wife or he could pay her for her services and wash his hands of her. He imagined himself telling her that he would be a smith once more. He could see her face drop as her dreams of wealth and power slipped from her grasp; he could see a look of contempt come into her eyes. And he couldn't bear to witness it. Better to pay her off and forget her.

Now she was gone, he would start working on forgetting her straight away. The trouble was, it was proving quite difficult. After he had watched her ride off with Balin, he found himself thinking about her for the rest of the day and haunting his dreams at night.

Pt V

Some days after Tauriel's departure, Thorin set off on his journey to the far west. It had been a hard parting with his company. They had been through so much together and two of them had died. But Dain was a good leader and he would make a good king. Much better than me, he thought. But Thorin knew he was a good smith. Moreover, he now had the raw gold to work into fine things and perhaps wrought gold would make gold, as his father had always told him.

But, Thorin was angry with himself. Every day he thought of Tauriel and every night he dreamed about her. Dreams or nightmares? She knelt by his bed, laughing at him and letting her long, golden hair tumble down in a great swathe so that it seemed to touch his bare chest. But just when he was sure he could feel its silkiness upon his skin, causing him to shiver and groan, he would wake up alone and in his empty room. Yes, he was fated to be alone all his life, he knew it. He would be glad to get back to his isolated forge. Perhaps then she would no longer haunt him.

Tauriel, meanwhile, was only a few miles away from Lake Town. It had been a quiet, sad journey for her, lost as she was in her own thoughts, and with Balin being more taciturn than usual. She planned to stay overnight in the town before continuing. It was a bit of a shanty, she had been told, but the elves had done a good job of constructing temporary homes for those who still remained there. Many families had already moved to Dale and were working enthusiastically on building a new town with the help of the dwarves. Balin had messages for Bard and the Master – they needed to be informed of Thorin's departure and Dain's new office – and then he would head back once more to the Mountain.

Tauriel liked the elderly dwarf. He had a kindly and a wise face and, in the immediate weeks after the battle, he had often sat with her in Thorin's room as they waited for his recovery, keeping her company and telling her all that he could remember about Thorin – his childhood, his exile, his family, the battles he had fought against the goblins, how he had acquired the name of "Oakenshield".

Balin sensed that Tauriel had stronger feelings for Thorin than that of a concerned nurse and had seen her enter the house and go to his room on the night before they had left Lake Town. He had also noted her pale face at the window as they had ridden away and had seen the look in his leader's eyes as he had turned and, raising himself in his stirrups, had waved farewell to her. And that was why, at the moment, he was feeling rather confused.

The night before Tauriel had left, Thorin had summoned Balin and asked him to accompany her part of the way. "She's returning to Mirkwood," he had said. "Her job is finished here."

"Her job?" Balin had exclaimed. "But I thought..."

"Yes, I thought you thought something different," Thorin snapped. Then seeing that his old friend was not going to let it lie, he added tersely: "Perhaps life with a smith does not hold the same attractions as life with a king."

Balin gaped. He found it difficult to believe what Thorin was implying. Had Tauriel rejected him because he was no longer a king? Impossible, he thought, and began to question him more. But Thorin held up his hand. "Enough! It is finished! Just do your duty and remove her from my sight." There was such pain in Thorin's eyes that Balin had to look away.

Now, soon he and Tauriel would be at the parting of their ways and Balin felt that he had to know.

"Tauriel," he said. The beautiful elf raised sad eyes to his face. "I think we understand each other quite well, don't we?" She nodded in agreement. "And so I hope you don't mind me asking why, if you love Thorin, you do not consider life with him as a smith just as welcome as that with him as a king."

Tauriel looked confused. "I'm sorry, Balin," she said, "but I don't understand. Thorin's no longer a smith – he's a king. And, if he had wanted me, I would have been his queen."

"If he had wanted you? If he...?" The well-oiled cogs in Balin's mind suddenly engaged and he began to laugh. He laughed so much, he nearly fell from his horse. "Oh," he spluttered finally. "I always knew that boy was a fool!"

He swung his horse around to face her and, managing to keep a straight face at last, he asked: "He did tell you that he has given up his throne to Dain and that he is returning to Ered Luin to be a smith again...didn't he? And he did give you the choice of going with him?"

Tauriel looked stunned and then angry: "No, he didn't. He just told me that my home was in Mirkwood and my duty lay with Thranduil."

Balin reached out and touched her arm. "Oh, my poor girl. What must you have thought? And what must HE have thought?"

"That's the bit that bothers me," she said grimly. "He offered to PAY me for my services!"

"Oh, my," said Balin. "He went that far, did he? And what did you do?"

"I hit him."

"Good girl,"chuckled Balin. "I hope that made you feel better."

"It did for a bit, but then..." To Balin's dismay, she suddenly burst into tears. He dismounted and, helping her from her horse, he gave her a hug and patted her back ineffectually.

They sat by the lake whilst he dabbed her eyes and said sternly: "Come, child. Tears won't mend anything. You must decide what you're going to do."

"Take my bow and shoot him?" she suggested, trying to smile through the tears. "Chain him up and leave him in an isolated spot? Throw him in a dark dungeon and forget all about him? Seize him by his plaits and kiss him to death?"

"That last one sounds like a plan," laughed Balin. "But you've got to find him first. And then you've got to persuade him that marrying a smith is in your interests. If you turn around and ride back the way we came, he should have set out from the Mountain by now."

She kissed the old man on the forehead. "Thank you so much, Balin. I hope one day to see you again. In Ered Luin."

She got back on her horse and, with a look of determination on her face, set out once more towards the Lonely Mountain.

Thorin was roaring drunk. As the night had closed in, he had found a spot suitable to set up camp, lit a fire, toyed with some food and then had got through a few bottles of that powerful local wine. He had dreamed about her last night again. Tonight he was determined that he would be so dead to the world that nothing would penetrate his misery. He sat with his back to a tree; his horse cropped the grass next to him and he reached up to stroke its neck. "Did you know, you're my only frien'," he slurred, suddenly feeling excessively sorry for himself.

"Damn!" he muttered, as Tauriel came walking through the trees towards him. The wine hadn't worked. She sat down across the fire from him and the shadows danced and played across her beautiful face. He wanted to touch her; he wanted to kiss her. But he knew that if he tried to do that, she would disappear and then he would wake up. Instead, he would torment himself by gazing at her and remembering every feature. Because a time would come when she would fade from his memory and then he would be truly alone.

Tauriel could see that Thorin was drunk. It perhaps wasn't the right time to say what she had to say to him. When she sat down, he seemed unable to focus on her and she wondered if he realised that she was even there. He turned towards his horse to continue his conversation.

"Look, itsh the dream lady again. Comes ev'y night, y'know. Won't let me alone. But, tell you a li'l secret." He raised an unsteady finger to his lips, missed, hit his nose and tried again. "Don't want her to le' me alone. 'Cos I love her, y'see. Waited all these years, and then have to fall in love with an elf. Boo'ful elf, though."

He gazed unsteadily at the raised finger hovering in front of his face and then poked his horse with it. The horse tossed its mane and edged away. "I was a king, y'know. Don't b'lieve me, do you? She would've been my queen. Gave it a-a-l-l-l away." And he threw his arms wide in an expansive gesture so that the horse sidled even further away from its master who seemed to be slightly deranged this evening.

"Coul'n't ask her to come to Lered Uin – Neled Ruin – the Blue Moun'ains to be my wife, could I? Wha' would a boo'ful girl like that do inna hut inna middle of nowhere? Soon get bored, tha's what. Leave me. Break my heart." Thorin thought about this for a moment and then continued: "No, forgot. Can't do tha'. Heart's broken already. Hurts, y'know. Really hurts."

For a moment, he gently laid his hand upon his breast. "She pu' her han' there. Came to my room and pu' her han' there. Said she loved me." Thorin remembered the moment and then frowned. "But p'r'aps she di'n't love me - loved the dragon's gol'. Norra king now. No gol'." He sighed mournfully. "Knew she'd say no, so di'n't ask her."

He looked across the fire at Tauriel and her face was wet with tears. "Why you cryin', dream lady?" he asked sadly. And before she could answer, he keeled over sideways and went out like a light.

Tauriel got up and, taking off her cloak, laid it over him. She tenderly stroked his hair back from his forehead and kissed him on the lips. His mouth twitched as he tried to respond, so she kissed him again, laughing quietly as Thorin began to snore. "You just wait until tomorrow," she said and curled herself in behind his back.

Thorin dreamed that Tauriel had come to him again. She had sat opposite him and she had cried. Then she had stroked his hair and kissed him - twice – full on the mouth. After that, she had pressed herself into his back and they had slept like that all night. He could almost have convinced himself that she was really there.

But, when he woke up, he was alone on the cold ground with his horse cropping the grass nearby. He wondered if he would ever get over her and he clutched his aching head between his hands. He looked up and stared across the clearing. She was there again, standing with that bad-tempered horse of hers. He rubbed his eyes but she refused to go away. For a moment, he wondered if she now intended to haunt his waking hours as well but as she came closer and tethered her horse to a tree he finally realised that the cloak he clutched about himself was hers.

"Tauriel?" he asked tentatively.

"Thorin?" she teased him back.

And then she strode purposefully across the clearing, grabbed his plaits firmly and shouted: "You stupid, stupid, STUPID dwarf!"

She yanked him to her and kissed him hard on the mouth but as he leaned forward to return the kiss, she pushed him away from her and strode back to her horse. She was just in the act of mounting when he seized her by the waist and pulled her back down into his arms.

"Where are you going?" he asked, looking puzzled.

"Where you told me to go. Back to Mirkwood," she snapped. "Isn't that where you want me to go now that my task is done?"

"No – yes – no!" he stuttered.

"And while you're making up your mind, "she said sharply, "this is for you." And she dropped some gold coins into his startled hand.

"What are these for?" he asked, looking confused.

"For your services," she responded.

"Services?" She was making him feel like an idiot.

"Yes, for two – no, three – kisses and for keeping me warm all night."

Suddenly, his cruelty to her, his lack of understanding and his stupidity washed over him like a giant wave and he realised what he had done. She was punishing him now but would she ever forgive him?

He took her hand tenderly and, opening it, he pressed a gentle kiss into her palm. "That kiss is for free," he said quietly. Then he kissed her on the throat: "And that one as well." And then, locking her tightly in his arms, he kissed her on the mouth. "And that one's for free too," he whispered, "as are any other kisses you have of me for the rest of our lives together."

For a moment, Tauriel's eyes searched his face and then, with a gurgle of laughter, she grabbed his plaits again and kissed him until he felt dizzy with desire. "You STUPID dwarf!" she murmured once more.

"Not so stupid," he retorted softly, "not since I have you."


	2. Chapter 2 Thorin and the Silver Rings

THORIN AND THE SILVER RINGS

PT I

The five days it took Thorin and Tauriel to travel to Thranduil's palace in Mirkwood were the happiest days of his life. Every morning as he roused from sleep, he experienced a tortured moment when he thought that her return to him had all been a dream; but then he felt her warm body pressed firmly against his own and he would joyfully realise that her presence was miraculously real.

On their first night together, they exchanged silver rings as a sign of their betrothal and hung them on chains around each other's necks. It was an elven tradition and, if, within a year, either of them changed their mind, then the rings would be melted down and they would part. If they got married, it would be for life. Thorin fingered Tauriel's delicate ring at his throat and luxuriated in the amazing thought of being married to Tauriel forever.

They were headed for his hall in Ered Luin but would have to visit Thranduil on the way. Thorin had intended to meet with the elven king anyway with his personal account of how he had given up his throne and with a great gift; for Thranduil had saved his life on the battlefield. Tauriel had the far more difficult task of asking the king to free her from her post as captain of the guard and to reveal that she intended to be the wife of a dwarven smith.

They had camped overnight by the side of the river down which, only a short time ago, Thorin and his companions had travelled in barrels in their daring escape from Thranduil's dungeons. At dawn, he slipped quietly out from under the elven cloak so as not to wake her and strode naked down to the shallows of the river to bathe.

His splashing roused her and Tauriel leaned smiling on her elbow to watch him. Her fingers already knew every contour of his body but this was the first time she had had the opportunity to study him properly in the broad light of day. He became conscious of her stare and emerged from the water grinning, walking boldly up the bank towards her without any sign of embarrassment.

Thorin threw back his long, wet hair and a spray of droplets glittered and fell about him in the morning sun. The water glistened on his body, emphasising his muscled form, and her heart beat faster. He bent over her and she reached up to pull him to her but he tugged the cloak away and, scooping her up from the ground, carried her as if she were a leaf back down to the river. She laughingly pleaded with him to let her go and, as he stood waist-deep in the river, he slowly set her down until they stood, kissing, breast to breast in the water. They stood like this for a long time until the cold drove them back to the bank and to their clothes.

They arrived at the great cave complex that made up Thranduil's palace by mid-day. Their ride had become progressively quieter as they drew nearer and they were forced seriously to ponder what the outcome of their audience with the elf-lord might be. At the gate, the soldiers on duty greeted them with cheers which seemed to acknowledge both the return of their captain and the coming of the King under the Mountain who had rallied them so effectively in their battle against the goblins and wargs. Thorin and Tauriel felt warmed by this greeting and began to be more optimistic about Thranduil's response.

When they entered his hall, the courtiers met them with a smattering of polite applause and Thranduil smiled graciously from his golden throne. He was a lithe, handsome man of indeterminate years with long, blond hair like Tauriel's and a crown of curiously twisted mithril upon his head. He gestured them both forward and Thorin bowed low before him. Thranduil looked slightly puzzled and said: "The King under the Mountain has no need to bow before the King of Mirkwood."

"That is true, sire, but it is an expected courtesy from a simple smith of Ered Luin."

There was a rustle from the crowd and they all listened intently as Thorin explained that Dain was now king and that he was returning home to the Blue Mountains. They nodded in approval as he gave his reasons and Thranduil also nodded his understanding.

"We did not know that your sister-sons were killed in the battle. That was a great loss and we mourn their sacrifice."

This is going quite well so far, thought Thorin. He took a step forward and, bending on one knee, held out a beautifully carved wooden case that he had been holding. He swung open the lid and the crowd let out a loud gasp of wonder whilst Thranduil half-rose in amazement from his throne.

"Behold, the emerald necklace of Girion, last lord of Dale, who was slain by the dragon, Smaug. As part of my share of the hoard, I give it to you for saving my life on the battle-field!" It was a legendary piece, made of five hundred stones, as green as grass, such as the elves loved. Thranduil sat down again, stunned, and Thorin placed the gift into his hands.

Then Thranduil drew out the sword, Orcrist, and handed it to Thorin. "It is an elven blade of great strength and power but we give it back into your care," he said.

After many gracious words of thanks had been spoken on both sides, Tauriel stepped forward and asked the king for a private audience. His courtiers bowed and left the room as did Thorin who reluctantly went to wait outside the door.

When all were gone, Thranduil looked curiously at her. "Is all well, Tauriel?" he asked.

"My king," she replied, kneeling before him, "I have served you faithfully for countless years and I now ask that you release me from my service to you so that I may leave Mirkwood."

Thranduil stepped down from his throne and, taking both her hands in his, he raised her to her feet.

"Tauriel", he said, "it is true you have served me well down the long years of our lives on Middle-earth. And during that time, much have we endured and seen together and much love has passed between us. I release you from your captaincy, if that is your wish, but first you must tell me why you wish to leave and where on Middle-earth you wish to pass your days." He gave her a troubled look and still clasped her hands.

She gently withdrew them from his grasp and said: "I wish to spend my life in Ered Luin with the dwarf, Thorin."

There was a long, stunned silence. Thranduil was having difficulty comprehending her words. His mind refused to accept the implications of what she was saying and he tried to explain it both to her and to himself. "Has Thorin not recovered? Has he a lasting wound? Surely another nurse could be found for him?"

"Thorin has fully recovered," she replied, "but I wish to go to Ered Luin with him as his wife. We are betrothed and have exchanged rings."

Thranduil took a step back from her and, as her full meaning sank in, his lips twisted with a grimace of disgust. "You wish to MARRY him?" The question exploded from his lips as he failed to control himself. She nodded slightly and he turned from her so that she could not see the horror on his face. Men and elves were the children of the creator of all things, Eru Iluvatar; the dwarf was a thing apart. They were different beings, created in secret by Aule and should have been destroyed when these creatures were first discovered. He pushed away the images that began to flood his mind of the slim, delicate elf in the arms of the powerful and sinewy dwarf. The thought of their intimacy made the gorge rise in the back of his throat. Their relationship was an abhorrence.

At last he turned back to her. "How did this happen, Tauriel?" he asked in exasperated tones.

She tried to be honest and said: "I think I first began to have feelings for him when I met him at his forge in Ered Luin. He was so grumpy," and she smiled as she remembered, "but he was kind to me, in his way." She paused for a moment. "But, in return, I was thankless and unfair because I thought that no dwarf could be trusted. And then," she continued, "I became his gaoler and my feelings for him grew. When he escaped, I was so angry, but part of that was because I had this fear that I might never see him again." She walked to a window cut through the rock and gazed at the view it gave her of the river. She laughed. "I chased after him because I wanted him but I couldn't admit that to myself. And then I found he was a KING! The night before the dwarves set out for the Mountain, I went to his house. I was quite brazen, I suppose." She smiled apologetically as Thranduil came to the window and stood beside her. "I slept with him that night" – a slight tremor ran through the elf-lord – "and I knew that he was mine and I was his. I thank you for all eternity because you saved his life."

"If I had known he was your lover," said the king grimly, "perhaps I wouldn't have tried so hard."

He paced across the room, spun on his heel and came back to her. He felt angry and frustrated with the turn of events. "Woman!" he shouted. "You are a fool and you are destroying your life. You will be an outcast. Both races will turn from you because they will feel the same disgust that now I feel!"

She felt deeply hurt by his reaction and was also afraid that what he was saying would prove to be true. She reached out to touch him. "Thranduil," she said, "for any love that you may bear me, please help me now. Don't let us part in anger like this."

He gazed at the floor and, finally lifting his eyes to hers, he took her face between his hands and, kissing her gently on the lips, he let out a sigh and whispered, "I release you." She smiled with relief and, placing her own hand warmly against his cheek, she murmured, "Thank you, my friend."

.o00o.

Thorin had been pacing restlessly outside the room. What were they saying to each other? How were things going? He wondered if it were time to rejoin her. Would his presence be a help or a hindrance? Probably better to stay out of things. But then he heard Thranduil raise his voice angrily and he couldn't hold back any longer. Thorin stepped into the room in time to see Thranduil cup his beloved's face in his hands and kiss her on the mouth. And then she touched his cheek and they whispered lovingly together.

Thorin wanted to stride across the room and punch Thranduil on the nose. He felt bewildered and the room spun slightly. But then he stepped back out into the corridor and sat in a daze wondering what he had just witnessed. Suddenly she was by his side. "Time to head out for Ered Luin," she smiled. "All is well with Thranduil." He stumbled after her as they returned to the gate. Then they mounted their horses and rode away.

That night, they camped on the protected elf-road that cut through Mirkwood where they knew they would be safe from the giant spiders that lurked there. Tauriel chattered about the journey that still lay before them, about Thorin's hall and how they could enlarge and improve upon it, about Dis and how best to break to her the dreadful news that both her sons were dead.

She chattered on as they ate their food not seeming to notice that most of his replies were monosyllabic. But, she could no longer deny that there was a problem when she slipped beneath the cloak on the ground and, running her hands over his chest, she held up her mouth for a kiss. Thorin turned away from her and mumbled that he was too tired for anything other than sleep.

They both lay on their backs in the dark, staring at the stars that glittered through the trees. Tauriel wondered in exasperation what it was she had done now, whilst Thorin tormented himself with thoughts of her and Thranduil together. He was equally tormented by Tauriel's warm body touching his own. She sighed in her sleep and rolled over so that her breasts were pressed up against his arm. His biceps twitched and, Tauriel, smiling to herself, sighed again and slid her hand up his thigh to rest on his taut belly. His whole body twitched then and she nearly let out a snort of laughter.

Thorin thought about things for a bit and decided that this spasm of jealous behaviour meant he was perhaps only punishing himself. He didn't take long to come to this conclusion and then, with a grunt of relief that he had made a sensible decision, he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her towards him.

Later that night, when Thorin had fallen into an exhausted sleep, Tauriel still gazed at the night sky. There was something wrong, she knew it. He had made love to her passionately but he had buried his face in her neck and hadn't kissed her once.

.o00o.

Over the next few days, things almost seemed to return to normal and Tauriel hoped that, whatever it was that had upset him, it had all blown over. Having crossed Mirkwood, they stayed for a few nights with Beorn and the great bear of a man welcomed them warmly and congratulated them on their betrothal. He seemed to have no problem with any combination of a loving relationship, whether it involved dwarf or man or elf.

It was a hard trek across the Misty Mountains but, with their sure-footed horses and good weather favouring them, they were finally over and travelling down the other side. They avoided the house of Elrond because Tauriel didn't feel like explaining herself to another elf-lord but they found comfortable lodgings – although in separate rooms – at the Prancing Pony in Bree. The locals were slightly curious to see an elf in the company of a dwarf but they saw many strange things in this crossroads of a town and were keener to hear of news from Erebor.

At last, they entered the Shire and found a warm welcome with Bilbo at Bag End. Nothing surprised the hobbit and so it had seemed likely to him, knowing how the two of them had knocked sparks off each other in the Mirkwood dungeon and how tenderly Tauriel had nursed Thorin through his injuries, that the two of them should now be in love. Tauriel looked for signs of disgust on his face but, to her relief, found none.

Thorin went to bed early that night but Tauriel sat up late and talked with Bilbo. The hobbit was a great expert on elven lore and he was very excited at the thought of their union. "You will find in history and legend that there are a number of instances where an elf and a human have married – Elrond, for instance, is descended from both races – but I know of no examples where there has been a marriage between an elf and a dwarf."

She looked worried. "And this is my concern," she said. "Thranduil warned me that it will not be accepted and that we shall be shunned and cast out."

"Well," said Bilbo, "I shan't cast you out. You will always be welcome here. What does Thorin say?"

She looked uncomfortable and admitted that she hadn't discussed it with him yet. "I haven't told him what Thranduil said because I don't want to upset him. I don't think that it's crossed his mind that some might find our relationship repugnant. He was more concerned that Thranduil would not release me from my captaincy or would find it inappropriate for me to marry a blacksmith."

Bilbo patted her kindly and said it would all work out in the end. And the next day, Thorin had a chat with him as they smoked their pipes together. "There's something I need to ask you," said Thorin. "I've hesitated to ask Tauriel, but, how old do you think she is?"

Bilbo considered for a while. "Oh, at least a thousand years, I should think. And how old are you?"

Thorin grimaced. "Not yet two hundred," he said.

"Come, come," remonstrated Bilbo, seeing the worry in his friend's eyes. "You may be younger, but you're a man of the world. You have experienced much and suffered much, whereas I can imagine that she has spent a goodly amount of her life shut up in that palace with Thranduil."

Thorin's brows blackened. "That's what worries me," he said.

.o00o.

PT II

They stayed some time with the hospitable hobbit and Bilbo managed to have a few more words with Tauriel. "Thorin's worried about the age difference," he told her as they were out walking around Hobbiton one day. "I think you manage to make him feel insecure in more ways than one and all your extra years of experience are of concern to him."

"Oh, Bilbo," she sighed, "there is nothing I can do about my age. If I had really felt the need to marry a two thousand year old elf, don't you think I would have done that a long time ago? Thorin is everything I want and no-one else I've met in all this time measures up to him. I just love being with him and I love the way he is. When I look at him, I see a beautiful man, more fair than any elven lord. His age upsets me but only because I know his time will come to an end before my own. But, I love him and I must face that day when it dawns."

Bilbo pulled her arm through the crook of his own and he patted her hand as they strolled under the trees. "Just remember what I'm telling you, Tauriel. And I suggest that you talk to him about Thranduil, too."

Yes, Thranduil, she thought. Bilbo meant that they should discuss the elf king's contempt for their betrothal but there was more to discuss about Thranduil than just that. Perhaps she should, but she wasn't yet willing to take the chance. Thorin didn't fully understand elven ways. Soon they would be in Ered Luin, a long way from Mirkwood, and there was a good chance that they would never see Thranduil again. There they would build a life together in a place so far removed from her past life that she would only need to look to their future together and her past, before they met each other, could remain an undiscovered country for Thorin – at least as far as Thranduil was concerned.

.o00o.

They set out the following day, feeling replete after second breakfast, and, as they rode, they discussed Dis. There was no way they could soften the blow and, when they finally saw the Blue Mountains of Ered Luin rise in the distance, Thorin's face became grim and set. The road they were on led down to the Grey Havens and the sea, but they turned aside and took a by-way to the dwarven halls in the mountains where Dis and a large group of other exiled dwarves had made their home.

They had found some caves like those that housed Thranduil's palace and which they considered suitable for their needs, but, unlike the elves who had left the palace in its natural state, they had dug and carved and extended until they had a magnificent place to live. Men had also made their homes nearby and, as in Lake Town, they cooperated well, the men farming and milling and hunting and keeping cattle, thus providing the dwarves with food, whilst the dwarves mined and smelted and worked metal. They were also good carpenters and masons, building houses and farms in wood and stone for them.

As they approached the settlement, many dwarves and men began to recognise Thorin, running beside his horse and shouting out enquiries about the outcome of his quest. Very little news had filtered back to them yet. But Thorin sat stern and silent on his horse and the crowd began to fall silent too, fearing the worst. They both dismounted when they reached his sister's home, elegantly carved out of the rock face. "Let me go in first," he said, leaving Tauriel to deal with the growing crowd who were now anxious and eager for news.

As he entered the house, Dis came hurrying across the room and threw her arms about him, glad of his return. They were of a similar age and had grown up together. Her sons had been as close to him as children of his own and the brothers, from an early age, had followed their uncle around with wide, admiring eyes, proud that this famous warrior was as a father to them and trying to imitate him in all things. She was dark-haired and strapping like her brother but, now, she drew back from him and trembled.

"My sons?" she whispered. But she had already guessed the truth of things and clutched his arm for support.

"They died valiantly in a great battle against the goblins," he said quietly. And she bowed her head in grief.

Outside, Tauriel was telling the crowd of the success of Thorin's quest. The dragon was dead, his hoard recovered and their great halls in the Lonely Mountain restored to them. They cheered and talked excitedly, some already planning their return to Erebor.

At first, they gave little thought to who Tauriel might be but, suddenly, a sharp-eyed dwarf woman noticed the heavy silver ring hanging from her neck. Her eyes narrowed. "Is that a betrothal ring?" she asked, for many such rings were worn on chains. Tauriel could not deny it and, suddenly, all of them were staring her way. "Looks like a dwarven ring to me," the woman continued. "Much too big to belong to an elf lord."

The crowd were silent now, drawing some unwelcome conclusions. "It cannot be Thorin's!" another dwarf exclaimed in a disbelieving voice. Tauriel held up her head proudly.

"We shall be married within the year and we are returning to his forge at the crossroads. Dain is now King under the Mountain."

The crowd murmured and she could hear an angry undertone. "An elf and a dwarf?" sneered the woman who had first spoken. "That pairing has never been heard of in all the history of Middle-earth!" She looked Tauriel's slender form up and down and drew up her own broad figure to its full height. "No dwarf would want a skinny morsel like you in his bed. He would swallow you in one bite!"

"He would squash her if he turned over in his sleep!" laughed another maliciously.

"Well, at least we shan't be bothered with her brats. It's reckoned that elves and dwarves can't breed!" shouted one of the men.

"She must have cast an elven spell on him!" yelled another. "He wouldn't want her for any other reason."

"A spell! A spell!" the crowd began to chant and suddenly they were advancing on her in a threatening manner.

Tauriel had backed up the path to the door of the house when, suddenly, the door was flung open and Thorin was standing by her side. The dwarves and men fell silent and his eyes swept them with contempt.

"Allow me to introduce Tauriel, my betrothed, lately captain of the guard at the palace of King Thranduil, and heroic veteran of the Battle of the Five Armies."

They looked at her more closely and noticed that, although she was slender, she was lithe and supple and carried a pair of killing knives on her back. The crowd decided to retreat down the path a little and now stood there looking at her with a bit more respect.

Thorin put his arm about her and drew her into his sister's home. And, there they sat with Dis all afternoon trying to comfort her. "Tell me how they died," she said.

And so they told how how Thorin and Fili and Kili had driven a wedge through the goblin hordes by their courage and bravery and how the two brothers had fought and laughed in the face of the enemy, doing their duty by their king and protecting him with their bodies and their shields.

Dis' face shone as she listened to their vivid description of her sons' final hours for she had borne a sword in her youth and understood their valour and their sacrifice. At last, she sighed, and, taking Tauriel's hand in her own, she held it to her cheek and said, "I am glad that the two of us will soon be three and that perhaps there will be four or more after that. It will be a comfort to have children in the family once more and perhaps my brother's sons will remind me of the ones I have lost."

And Tauriel smiled and nodded but kept to herself the nasty remark that had been thrown out by the man in the crowd. How true was it, she wondered? And if a pairing of an elf and a dwarf had never been heard of in Middle-earth, how could the man – or anyone - be sure?

That night after Dis had shown them to a room, she lay in the big bed and tormented herself with the thought that perhaps they would never have children and that Thorin would regret marrying her after all. When they were alone, he had wept like a child for his sister and her dead sons and she had rocked him to sleep at her breast. Would she ever rock children of her own to sleep, she thought? Their love had seemed quite difficult even at the beginning but now it was getting even more complicated.

.o00o.

Next day, they gave Dis two small chests of gold as part of her sons' share of the hoard. Then they stocked up on supplies and set off for the forge. Thorin's hall and forge were much as he had left them, dusty perhaps, but with very little for them to do to set the place to rights.

They sat up to the table that evening discussing how, now that they had the wealth, they would employ the dwarven carpenters and masons immediately to enlarge the hall. There would be a large, main room with smaller rooms leading off like a kitchen, a bedroom "and a lady's bower," said Thorin.

"A bower?" laughed Tauriel.

"Yes, don't all ladies have bowers?"

"Well, I can't see when I would ever use it. Why would I want to sit in a room all on my own without you?" And she bent forward and kissed him.

But Thorin insisted that he would build her one anyway.

When the work started, they squashed into the forge and slept in the bed on the floor. It wasn't so bad – at least there was a fire to cook on and a water-pump in the corner. As they crawled into the bed on the first night, Tauriel giggled as she remembered hi-jacking him and chaining him to the pillar. But Thorin was cross at her amusement, remembering only his humiliation. "No," she said, snuggling up closer to him, "you must think of it as the first day on which I fell in love with you."

"Did I look particularly attractive in chains, then?" he asked sarcastically.

"Well, yes," she said, and he snorted with indignation. "But I couldn't help think what a fine figure of a dwarf you made sprawled out asleep on top of this bed. And, if you hadn't stolen that dagger, I think I might have stayed around a little longer."

Thorin sat up in bed with a look of exasperation on his face. "I did NOT steal the dagger! How many more times must I say it?"

She pulled him back down onto the pillow and rolled over to face him. "Ah, yes, but since I apologise so nicely after every time I make the accusation..." Thorin grinned at her seductive voice and swept her body beneath him.

.o00o.

The hall was finished in excellent time and the carpenters began to make beautiful items of furniture for it - solid chairs and benches and tables, but intricately carved with dwarven symbols. The bed was made to a special elven pattern, designed by Tauriel. From out of each corner grew sinuous posts, carved with delicate leaves and flowers whilst birds and butterflies could be found hidden in the foliage of the headboard.

Her enthusiasm and appreciation for their work pleased the dwarves and they apologised for the behaviour of the crowd on the day that she had arrived. And yet, although their manner was pleasant, Tauriel could still see some discomfort in their eyes when they glanced between her and Thorin.

When the hall was finished and they had sat down for a fine meal that Tauriel had made to celebrate their new home, Thorin began to discuss ways of making money from his work. He had plenty of raw gold and a selection of fine jewels and he planned to make jewellery with them.

"But, first, to find the customers," he said. He didn't feel that there would be many up in the dwarven halls of the Blue Mountains who could afford the fine work and expensive items he was keen to produce; his idea was to go to the coast, to the Grey Havens, where many elves dwelled and where ships traded. The elves had smiths of their own but had always been appreciative of dwarven skill and design. He wanted them both to stay there for a week so that he could talk to people and show them his ideas and, hopefully, take on commissions.

"And it should be pleasant for you, Tauriel, to be once again among your people," he added smilingly.

But Tauriel shrank from the thought. There had now been a bad reaction from the dwarves and it was odd that Thorin hadn't seemed to understand why they had been so unpleasant, putting it all down to the traditional dislike that existed between the two races. Now that they knew she was to be his wife, then he imagined that all would be well. He didn't appreciate that, actually, this was the problem. And the thought of facing a crowd of equally angry and disgusted elves made her anxious and reluctant to accompany him.

She tried to dance around the situation, not wanting Thorin to know how people really perceived them. She wasn't quite sure why she felt unable to discuss it with him but part of her was afraid that, if he realised that their marriage might prove to be a difficult one, then perhaps he might choose to end their betrothal.

"Don't you think I should stay here, Thorin?" she said in a sensible voice. "There is so much still to be done and you will be really busy all day talking with people and I shall only be in the way."

"Ah, yes," he said in his velvety voice, as he nuzzled her neck. "I shall be busy all day. But I feel that I may need you to keep me busy all night." And he laughed his deep, throaty laugh and carried her to their new bed to try out the feather mattress.

In the end, she ran out of excuses and on a fine, spring day, they set out for the Grey Havens.

.o00o.

It was very beautiful there. They hired a house overlooking the estuary and Tauriel spent much of the day sitting on a balcony looking out to sea, entranced by the cry of the gulls. Thorin was very happy. All day he talked with elves and men, discussing his designs. His presence in the town seemed to stir up a lot of excitement and he soon had a string of customers. We'll go home tomorrow," he said with satisfaction. "This has been a very successful trip."

He took her for a walk along the quay that afternoon and she was enjoying watching the elegant ships being loaded and unloaded and feeling relief that soon they would be on their way home without anything untoward happening.

Suddenly, an elf was standing in front of her, saluting. It was one of the elven guard from Mirkwood and she nodded warily in recognition.

He seemed uncertain how to address them but finally decided on: "Thorin Oakenshield...Sir...Ma'am... the king is on a mission here and, hearing of your presence, invites you both to a feast he is holding tonight."

"We...we are leaving early tomorrow," she stuttered. Then, looking hopefully for confirmation to Thorin: "Perhaps we should send our apologies?"

Thorin was tight-lipped. "No," he said. "Thank the king for his invitation." The soldier saluted again and marched off down the quay.

Tauriel was appalled. The thought of spending a whole evening with Thranduil and a group of elves who might make Thorin feel ashamed to be marrying her was the last thing she wanted but she would have to go through with it as best she could.

"I need a dress," she said.

"A dress?"

"Yes, you know, what women wear."

And then Thorin realised that he had only ever seen Tauriel in men's garb. He handed her a pouch and told her to buy what she wanted.

As she walked away from him, Thorin saw Thranduil touch Tauriel's face; he saw him kiss her lips; he saw them whispering together; he saw a red curtain of jealousy. Then he stalked down the quay and away from her as quickly as he could before he roared out his rage.

.o00o.

PT III

Thorin walked along the estuary for a time until the images that kept pouring into his brain were under some control. On their journey back to the Blue Mountains, he had tried hard to put what he had seen in Thranduil's palace to the back of his mind and he had, more or less, succeeded, convincing himself that he had misunderstood the situation and that the beautiful elf loved him and him alone. She was going to be his wife. She would never see Thranduil again...and then, suddenly, there was the elven king right on his doorstep. It seemed to him that her reaction to the invitation was one of guilt. Why would she avoid Thranduil? Why didn't she want to be with her own kind? He didn't know, but they would go to the feast tonight and he would observe them together.

It was late when he felt calm enough and returned to the house. Tauriel was ready and waiting for him. He stood on the threshold of the room and felt stunned. She was wearing an elven styled dress made of some floaty, silvery material and her hair was looped up elegantly on her head. He didn't recognise her and, for a moment, he could see her as Thranduil's queen. And he felt sure that all this beauty was not intended for him but for the elven king.

She spun in a silvery drift. "Lovely, isn't it? Thank you," she said and she wrapped him in a feminine and perfumed embrace that made him wish that they had stayed home after all.

Thranduil's mansion in the Grey Havens was a magnificent place and, that evening, it was thronged with guests, mainly elves from the town but also many of his courtiers from Mirkwood. He was there to discuss with local elf-lords some trouble that was brewing in the North but, tonight, he was playing the gracious host. Nodding to Thorin in greeting, he then took Tauriel's hand and, bending over it gracefully, he kissed it – much too lingeringly, Thorin thought, as he watched the king's well-formed lips press softly on Tauriel's white skin. He wanted to snatch her hand away but, with admirable self-control, he bowed to Thranduil instead. The elf smiled into Tauriel's eyes: "So beautiful," he murmured. "I had almost forgotten what it was like to see my captain out of uniform." And his eyes gleamed as if they were sharing a private joke.

Out of uniform? Thorin glowered and wondered how he would get through the evening.

As the feast wore on, things became more of a struggle for him. He was the only dwarf there; the elves stared across the table at him in their usual superior manner and Tauriel's attention always seemed to be elsewhere. She was seated on Thranduil's right and she was frequently wrapped in conversation with the king, their heads close together, their voices low and intimate. Thorin was left to his dark thoughts and his cup of wine.

Thranduil was, in fact, talking about Thorin. He wanted to know if Tauriel was happy with him at the forge and if she had regretted her decision. She smiled with such a look of love in her eyes that Thranduil wished he could take back the cruel words he had spoken to her in Mirkwood. He placed his hand solicitously over hers and said softly: "You know how much this relationship disturbs me and I would wish it otherwise; but I am glad for you and can only wish you happiness." She squeezed his hand gently in return. They had been friends for such a long time and it was very important to her that he accepted Thorin.

"He will make a very wonderful husband and, even among the elves, I could not have found better."

Thranduil grimaced and laughed. "I think you have made that plain, Tauriel. I am feeling quite rejected."

"Oh, you're too fine for me, my lord," she twinkled back. "Perhaps if I had been more like my lady over there," and she looked across the table at a sophisticated and beautiful elven woman who was the centre of a small coterie of admirers, "I would have made a suitable queen. As it is, this rough soldier you see before you deals better with a rough, dwarven smith."

"Ah, then, sadly it is my loss," he teased but also with real regret. And he lifted her hand again and kissed it long and tenderly once more. "I think I'd better mingle with my other guests," he added with a wink, "before your infatuated swain decides to run me through."

He rose to his feet and all his guests with him; then they withdrew to another room to sip wine and enjoy each other's company.

Thorin sat alone in a corner, stewing in his own angry and jealous imaginings. He had noticed every look, every glance, every touch and he was at a point where he seriously wondered why Tauriel was marrying him. Perhaps she really had only wanted a king. She had almost got one but he was king no longer. And so... He studied Thranduil, laughing and talking with his guests on the far side of the room. He was a very good-looking man, intelligent and with a charming manner. Thorin knew the king's wife had died some years ago and he had been left alone with a young son. Why hadn't he married again? Perhaps he just needed a bit of a push. He and Tauriel seemed very close. Perhaps Tauriel was using him as bait to make Thranduil jealous...and perhaps it was working. Their flirtatious intimacy tonight was driving him mad.

Tauriel was standing in the middle of the room surrounded by a group of handsome elf-lords. She was flirting with them, too, he was sure – doubtless part of her plan. He saw Thranduil glancing constantly towards the group and so she appeared to be making progress. Thorin glowered harder and drank deeper.

But, in fact, Tauriel, far from flirting, was desperately fighting a rear-guard action in an attempt to keep the elves away from Thorin. They were not being as blunt as the dwarves back in Ered Luin, but their manner and their tone were such that she was finding it even more difficult to cope with.

"So, is that your betrothed?" asked one, flicking an eye in Thorin's direction. "One has to wonder, doesn't one, about dwarves?"

"Does one?" responded Tauriel with a raised eyebrow. "In what way?" And then she could have kicked herself for giving him a lead-in to his next remark.

"Yes, well," the elf-lord drawled, "one does actually wonder, y'know, looking at him, what it is that he's got that I, for instance, haven't. It's not particularly apparent to me from here – but I'm sure that you, as his intended bride, must be aware of, hmmm - things – that the rest of us can't possibly know about." And he gave her a suggestive leer.

Tauriel held her head up and replied coldly: "I have discovered that there are indeed many ways in which a dwarf – outperforms – an elf. Thorin Oakenshield is a great warrior, for instance. Perhaps you'd like to meet him in a test of skills." As she expected, the elf drew back with a fluttering of hands. "Oh, no, lady, I do not doubt his skills – in many things."

His companion looked curiously at her and asked, his eyes lazily scanning her from under half-closed lids, "The attraction between the two of you absolutely fascinates me. I wonder, Tauriel, how you have managed to conquer the dislike that has existed beween our two races for so long? How did you manage to overcome your repugnance?" He shivered delicately. "He has got such BIG arms, wouldn't you say? He is so – so – how can I put it? – unrefined. So exciting for you, my dear."

They were treating her with so little respect that Tauriel was beginning to feel very much on the defensive but, before she could answer, a third elf-lord put in: "I have wondered for many years, Tauriel, why you remained unmarried – such a beautiful girl, too. I had heard rumours that you had a – thing – for Thranduil." He gave a sneering laugh. "Not on the rebound, are you? Although this" – he nodded towards Thorin – "looks like a pretty big rebound, don't you think?"

They all laughed unpleasantly but suddenly stopped as their king stepped into the circle. He took Tauriel's hand and, bowing over it, said smilingly: "She wouldn't have me, I'm afraid, lordlings. I pursued her for a long time but now she seems to have chosen the better man. Alas, my heart is broken but she has no pity."

Tauriel had been on the verge of tears and felt a huge wave of gratitude that Thranduil had noticed what was going on and had stepped forward to break up the nasty little attack on her and Thorin. The elf-lords looked uncomfortable and, bowing, drifted away.

Thorin glowered from his corner. Well, her ploy had worked and her bait had drawn the big fish. Time to take her home, he thought. He had seen enough – and more than enough, too.

But, at that moment, a graceful young elf approached him and sat down next to him. "This is a beautiful place, don't you think?" he said. "I expect you recognise the dwarven skill that helped to build it? I'm such an admirer of your masons – none better."

Thorin relaxed against his seat. For the first time that evening, here was a friendly face. "My name is Lostwithiel and I'm a part of Thranduil's court. I saw you when you presented the necklace of Girion to our king. What a remarkable piece!"

They chatted amiably for some minutes but, all the time, Thorin cast anxious glances towards Tauriel and Thranduil who were still talking together.

"Ah, yes," the elf smiled, seeing the direction of his glances. "We are all in love with Tauriel, the king especially. What a sad day it was for him when he lost his captain to the legendary Thorin Oakenshield. And what a triumph for you! How did you do it? I think we would all like to know your secret."

He had guessed right! He knew there was something between the two of them. He turned back to Lostwithiel with eager questions. "So, they were in love?"

"Were – are. Who knows? Oh, yes, everyone was aware of it. He pursued her relentlessly and we thought she would be our next queen."

"But, then?"

"But, then they had a lovers' tiff – something and nothing, I believe. Soon after, she went running off after you when you escaped and, well, you know the rest."

But, did he know the rest, thought Thorin? All he knew was that his betrothed was holding hands with Thranduil again and that they were gazing into each other's eyes. He had had enough. Getting abruptly to his feet, he bowed to the elf-lord and then strode across the room to take Tauriel home.

Lostwithiel sat watching the little scenario of Thorin rather rudely saying his good byes to Thranduil and then hurrying Tauriel out of the room. He smiled rather smugly to himself.

The elf who had first been unpleasant to Tauriel sat down next to him. "Well," said Lostwithiel, "that was very clever of me, even though I say so myself. I think that will cause a bit of trouble in the love-nest." And the two of them laughed maliciously together.

.o00o.

Tauriel's heart sank at Thorin's cold, abrupt manner as he escorted her home. He must have had a hard evening. She had done her best to protect him and she wondered which of the elves had been offensive to him and what it was they had said. She wanted to talk to him about it, to reassure him, but he had a face like thunder and she decided that it definitely wasn't the best time.

When they got into bed and he made no move to take her in his arms, it was not unexpected. She decided to let him alone and perhaps talk about things the following day.

Thorin lay there feeling angry and anguished. She made no move to touch him. Perhaps after seeing Thranduil, she couldn't bear to do so. Perhaps she preferred to sleep and dream about her elven prince. Well, let her, he thought. And grabbing the bedcovers to his shoulder, he turned his back on her and tried to get some sleep himself.

.o00o.

As they had planned, they got up early the next morning so that they could ride with a mixed party of travellers who intended to get as far as the Mountain Eagle Inn in Ered Luin by nightfall, passing Thorin's forge on the way. They had little opportunity to talk to each other privately, but they reached the forge by late afternoon. As he waved farewell to their travelling companions, Thorin remembered that first night when Tauriel had been too afraid to ride on in the dark. He wished he had never met her.

Tauriel had entered the hall to prepare some food but Thorin went to his forge and lit the furnace. Some time later, she could hear the steady beat of metal on metal. She smiled wanly. Perhaps it was a good idea for him to get things off his chest.

When the food was ready and he had made no appearance, she got ready a tray and carried it to the forge. Thorin worked in the fierce, red glow of the furnace. He was stripped to the waist and the sweat poured down his face and chest. She stood for a moment in the doorway and thought how magnificent he looked, his powerful body burnished and slick in the dancing flames. She set down the tray and he paused. She looked at him and said quietly; "Are you ready to talk about it yet?"

"No," he said, to her dismay, and he put down his tools. Then, to her confusion, he walked towards her, scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed in the corner. He made love to her in silence but very slowly, very gently and very tenderly. Tauriel sighed and, wrapping her slender arms around him, she held him to her and thought how deeply she loved him.

When he had finished, he raised himself on one arm and looked down at her. Oh, but she was beautiful with that wonderful hair spread out over the pillow and those great eyes staring so innocently back into his own. He fingered his silver betrothal ring at her breast – and then he grasped it and wrenched it from its chain. She gasped, crying out and reaching for it. But he stood, pulled off her ring that hung around his neck and then strode to the furnace and cast them both into the flames.

She sat there, wide-eyed and, at first, could not speak.

"But – but – you just made love to me," she cried.

"That was one to remember me by," he said cruelly as he got dressed.

"I-I don't understand, Thorin," she managed to stutter out.

"Go to your lover, Tauriel. It's over."

"What lover?" she gasped.

"Oh, so there's more than one?" he said bitterly. "Well, I would think that Thranduil is your best bet."

He threw the door open and disappeared out into the night. A few moments later, she heard his horse galloping away. She sat up until dawn, hoping for his return. By morning, the furnace had gone out and she gazed sadly at the dirty puddle of silver that had once been tokens of their love. She got ready her pack and saddled her horse; but then she heard the tinkle of elven bells and Thranduil came riding down the lane, his entourage behind him, heading back to Mirkwood.

Thorin watched from the shadow of the woods as Tauriel rode away with the elven company. He would go back to his forge, he thought, and life would return to what it had been before she came.

.o00o.

PT IV

Months passed and, to all appearances, life did go on just the same. Thorin worked in his forge, travelled to the Grey Havens in search of customers and visited his sister. Dis was upset when she heard that the betrothal had been broken. She would always be grateful to Tauriel for the kindness she had shown her after her sons had died.

"Well, I'm very sorry for that, Thorin, but there are many people here who will be pleased to hear the news. They gave her a rough time, you know, that day you visited."

"Yes, but once we were married, they would have accepted her," he replied with a shrug.

"I don't think you understand," said Dis, looking surprised. "Your marriage may have made it worse. There were many here repulsed at the idea of a union between you two and they certainly let Tauriel know it that day."

Thorin looked disturbed and searched his sister's face. "I never knew," he said. "She never told me."

"Did she have any trouble from the elves at the Grey Havens?" she continued. "I was surprised that you took her there. I can imagine that Thranduil gave her a piece of his mind and those elves are real ones for dishing out insults in an underhand manner."

"Yes, she was fine – or at least I think she was – I don't know – she didn't say." Thorin no longer knew what to think. "But, it doesn't matter any more, does it, since we're not getting married?"

"Well," sighed Dis, "perhaps it's just as well, particularly since you couldn't have had children."

Thorin gaped. "What do you mean, woman, no children?"

"Apparently, everyone knows that dwarves and elves can't reproduce – at least that's what my neighbour told me. I thought you loved her so much that it wasn't an obstacle."

"I did love her," he sighed, "and it wouldn't have been an obstacle – but, I didn't know. The question is, did Tauriel?"

"Oh, yes, she knew," said Dis, shaking her head in disgust. "The crowd threw it in her face."

Thorin thought about this conversation for a long time. He thought about it during the many nights on which he lay awake. He thought about it whilst he worked in his forge. He thought about it as he rode on the long journey down to the Grey Havens. And he thought about it whilst he thought about all the other things to do with Tauriel. He was exhausted with thinking about her and yet he couldn't stop.

And then, one day in spring, he had an unexpected visitor in the form of Bilbo Baggins. They greeted each other with sincere pleasure. Their great adventure together had made them very close and Thorin felt that he could talk to Bilbo in a way that he couldn't even talk to his sister.

Thorin made a hearty meal for them both and Bilbo examined the new hall with all its excellent fixtures and fittings, showing great pleasure in its beauty and design. Tauriel's name wasn't mentioned but hung unspoken between them.

Finally, as they sat outside, smoking their pipes, Bilbo said: "I've visited Elrond recently, you know."

Thorin responded with interest because he hadn't seen Elrond since he had stayed at The Last Homely House as he and Bilbo and all the dwarves had set out on their quest. It had been then that he had decided that some elves were not quite so bad after all.

Bilbo paused for a moment and then said: "Tauriel's there, you know."

There was a prolonged silence and then Thorin said, "No, I didn't know. I thought she had gone home to Mirkwood."

"I think that was her intention," Bilbo mused, "but when she arrived with Thranduil and his company, they all stayed several months; after which, she changed her mind and decided to remain behind when the others left. I don't know why – didn't ask. I think she just likes it there. I do too. Very civilised place."

He chatted on about the elven stronghold, reminiscing on its beauties, its fascinating library, its poets and singers. "They like my poetry there, you know. And I'm writing a book about our adventure. They're always very flattering. They make me feel so comfortable and I like visiting. I shall retire there when I get old."

Thorin wasn't listening; he was thinking about Tauriel. She wasn't with Thranduil! His pride wouldn't let him ask Bilbo any more questions about her but he hoped that the hobbit would volunteer some additional information. And, in due time, he did. "She's looking very beautiful, you know. She's got quite a few admirers. Don't know why that girl didn't get married long ago. Don't know why you didn't marry her."

There – it was said. And Thorin felt on the defensive.

"She didn't love me. She was in love with Thranduil – and so I broke the betrothal and told her to go back to Mirkwood."

"Oh, don't talk rubbish, Thorin," said the hobbit with blunt cheerfulness. "Where did you get a stupid idea like that from?"

"From the way they looked at each other; from the way they touched. I saw him kiss her on the lips," said Thorin angrily.

"Well, you see," said Bilbo, sitting back more comfortably in his chair, ready to give the uninitiated a little lecture on his favourite topic, "it all goes to show that you have a very limited understanding of the ways of elves." He tapped out his pipe, folded his hands across his stomach and continued: "I know it's difficult to grasp just how much older they are than us - and you SHOULD grasp it because we've had this conversation about Tauriel's age before – but she and Thranduil are very close because their friendship has lasted an unimaginable time. When his queen died, there was some talk about him getting married again because he had a young son. They discussed it, she tells me, but then they decided on the sensible course: they didn't love each other so they didn't get married." Bilbo finished his homily on a grand drum roll. "The only person in all of Middle-earth she has ever loved through all this time is you, Thorin Oakenshield."

Oh, how Thorin wanted to believe that! But he couldn't quite let go yet. "That can't be more than an optimistic guess, Bilbo."

The hobbit banged the arm of his chair in frustration. "It is NOT a guess, Thorin! It is the truth! And how do I know this? Because she told me!"

Thorin sat in silence. Bilbo felt as if he could tear his hair out.

"Look," he said in exasperated tones. "She wants to see you. What do you think I'm doing here?"

Thorin looked up with a gladness in his eyes. "She sent you?"

Bilbo looked uncomfortable. "Well, not exactly. She told me she wanted to see you, but I came here on my own initiative. Trying to sort things out between two stubborn people, you know."

Thorin paced up and down in front of his hall while Bilbo watched him. It was his pride that stopped him, Thorin knew. But pride had got him into a lot of trouble in the past and it was time to abandon it.

"All right," he said at last. "I'll go. When do we start?"

.o00o.

When at last Thorin and Bilbo rode down into the beautiful valley and crossed the stream that led to Elrond Half-elven's home in Rivendell, the little hobbit glanced up at the dwarf and said, "How're you feeling, Thorin? Getting a bit anxious?"

"Yes, just a bit" said Thorin with a wry grin. "I haven't seen her in such a long time."

"How long is it now, then? A year?" asked Bilbo curiously.

"Eleven months, two weeks and one day," Thorin replied.

Bilbo laughed. "My, that's a precise answer. Someone's keeping track." He was silent for a moment and then said, "She's changed a bit, you know."

Thorin's head snapped up. "Changed? What do you mean?"

"Oh...well...you'll know what I mean when you see her." And then they had arrived at the gate and there was no more time for conversation between them.

Elrond was pleased and angry at the same time. "You took your time, Thorin. I expected you months ago. You're the most bloody-minded dwarf I know. Just like her horse. She named him after you, you know."

"Did she?" said Thorin with a grin.

"She's waiting for you," Elrond went on. "Bilbo can show you to her room."

Bilbo led him through the winding corridors and finally they came to her door. "I'll leave you to it," said the hobbit. "Just don't mess it up this time. You're getting a second chance."

Thorin tapped on the door and, when he heard her voice, he quietly entered, feeling more afraid than when he had charged out to join the Battle of the Five Armies. It was a lovely room and she was standing with her back to him on a wide balcony overlooking the valley. Somehow he had expected her to be wearing her captain's gear with her knives strapped to her back and her bow on her shoulder. Silly really, he thought. Instead, she was wearing a very similar gown to the one she had worn to Thranduil's feast. It floated from her white shoulders and pooled on the floor about her feet. His heart beat so hard with love for her that he thought it would burst from his breast. Oh, to fold her in his arms!

"Tauriel?" he said tentatively.

"Thorin?" she teased and turned smiling.

She was so beautiful that she took his breath away. He thought he could gaze at her face forever. But then his eyes drifted downwards – and he saw that she was heavily pregnant!

Thorin's mind reeled and he struggled to make sense of it all. He hadn't seen her for a year. The baby couldn't be his - it was someone else's – it must be Thranduil's - the timing would be right. He wanted to storm and shout at her. He wanted to rage around the room. But Bilbo's voice was still echoing in his ears: "Don't mess it up...you're getting a second chance."

She was watching his face warily, looking to see his response. "Are you pleased or angry?" she asked.

What kind of a question was that, he thought? Why would he be pleased about another man's child? And then he understood. She had known she could never have a child with him. But now she was pregnant and she must see it as some kind of wonderful twist of fate. They could have each other and they could have a child. She would have everything she wanted – and so would he.

With a huge effort, Thorin swallowed his pride. He walked swiftly across the room to her and took her in his arms. "Pleased, of course," he whispered.

She took his face between her hands and kissed him with such love and passion that his senses reeled. They kissed for a long time and he tried to put into his lips all the things that he felt for her and had ever felt for her. He gave a long sigh, ran his hand down her silken hair and then knelt before her. Taking her hands in his, he brought them to his face and she felt his tears upon them. "I'm so sorry, Tauriel," he said huskily.

"Don't cry, don't cry," she said and clumsily knelt down with him, cradling his head upon her breast. "It's all right," she said through her own tears. "We shall be happy now, my love. No more tears."

He fumbled in his pocket and brought out an exquisite little box. "For you," he said. And when she opened it, there lay a copy of the silver betrothal ring; and then he undid his shirt to show a copy of her ring about his neck. "When did you make these?" she asked in delight as he hung the ring about her throat again.

"A week after you left," he said and looked up at her guiltily through his long lashes.

She seized his plaits and said: "You stupid, STUPID dwarf. What took you so long to come?"

And then they kissed and laughed and kissed again.

When they found Bilbo some time later, the hobbit fussed around them both in delight. In a private moment with Thorin, he patted him on the back. "Well done," he said. "See you've taken the good news on the chin, like a man. Must have been a shock."

"You could have warned me," grumbled Thorin.

"Well, I did. Said she had changed. Not my place to tell you more than that."

Then he made Tauriel sit down: "Get the weight off those legs, y'know," and told Thorin that they couldn't go back to Ered Luin because the baby was due any time. "Stay here and enjoy your time together. Relax. Don't worry about a thing. Just do as you're told." And he waggled a stern finger.

They obeyed Bilbo and spent the next two weeks wandering through the beautiful valley together. The elves delighted in their love and wrote poetry and songs about it. There was no more talk about inappropriate unions between elf and dwarf and, in a quiet and beautiful ceremony, Elrond married them.

That night, he made love to her very gently and the world seemed to them a very wonderful place.

.o00o.

At last, the day of Tauriel's labour came. Thorin wondered if it would be a boy or a girl but hoped it would be a beautiful, golden-haired girl, just like her mother. But, although he cared less for the idea of a boy who looked just like Thranduil, he knew he would love any child of Tauriel's and that it would make their family complete.

Elrond used his skills and special herbs to help her through the pain, but Thorin sat with her and was tortured by the whole business as she groaned and clutched his hand.

"Phew!" said Bilbo at one moment when Tauriel was resting and Thorin had left her room for a break. "This childbirth thing is a bit of a performance, isn't it?" And Thorin fervently agreed.

Some hours later, the baby was finally born. "It's a boy!" exclaimed Elrond joyfully, but just for a moment, Thorin felt a little sad. "And he looks just like his father!" Elrond continued as he wrapped him up and held him over for Thorin's inspection.

Thorin was feeling confused again. Instead of a golden-haired child with pale, delicate features, there lay a strapping, grumpy-looking boy with jet-black hair and dazzling blue eyes. "He looks just like me!" he said.

"Well, of course he does," said Tauriel. She had been helped up into a sitting position on the bed and now she held out her arms for the baby and rocked him, smiling with delight, on her breast. "Oh, he's so beautiful," she sighed, "and I just know he will grow up to be as handsome as his father." Elrond smiled and crept out of the room, leaving the happy family together.

"But – but," said Thorin, "I don't understand."

"Well, you did say you were leaving me something to remember you by," she grinned.

"But that was a year ago. Can you explain how this child is mine? Help me, Tauriel. I really don't understand," he wailed.

Suddenly, a look of horror passed over her face. "Oh, my poor Thorin. You haven't been thinking for these past two weeks that you were going to be the father of another man's child?" He nodded dumbly. "And you were prepared to look after it and treat it as your own?" He nodded again. Tauriel reached out and stroked his cheek tenderly. "And do you wonder why I love you so much?" she asked.

"But you still haven't explained," he said.

"Well, you see, you lovely, lovely, STUPID dwarf, I thought you knew that an elven pregnancy lasts for twelve months and not nine!"

Thorin gaped at her for a good five seconds and then he said: "You're right, I'm really, really stupid." And then he leaned over and breathed in her ear, saying in a deep, throaty whisper, "But does the new father deserve a kiss now?"

And she answered: "Yes, I really, really think he does."

.o00o.


	3. Chapter 3 Thorin Meets an Old Flame

The tiredness! Ah, the tiredness! Can love, romance and s-e-x survive marriage and a baby? This chapter is dedicated to all parents.

THORIN MEETS AN OLD FLAME

PT I

The warm sunshine threw a dappled light and shade upon Thorin as he lay on the grass beneath the tree outside his forge. His baby son was stretched out on his broad chest staring with wide-eyed fascination down at his father. His head wobbled as he struggled to hold it up and bear the weight and Thorin grinned at his determination. Blue eyes looked down into blue eyes and Thorin thought proudly that he had never seen a more beautiful child. Not that he had seen many children, mind you, but he was confident that this one was pretty remarkable. He lifted the boy above his head and Arion gurgled with laughter.

"Thorin!" shouted Tauriel from the door of their hall. "Bring that baby in at once. It's not warm enough out there yet!"

"Looks like we're in trouble again," grinned Thorin, pulling a face. And Arion looked mournful too, imitating his father's expression. Thorin gathered him up on his shoulder and entered the house. Tauriel was kneading dough and he leaned forward to kiss her on one floury cheek. "Shall I hold him for a bit longer until you finish?" he asked, hoping she would say "yes", but she directed him to lay their baby in his cot and then shooed him back to the forge.

As he sat up to his work bench and fashioned a lovely gold bangle, Thorin wondered if he had ever been happier. He had his craft, he had a beautiful wife and son, he lived in a quiet and peaceful spot – what more could a dwarf want? Well, perhaps a good night's sleep. And perhaps a bit more intimacy with Tauriel than he had been able to engineer since the baby had been born at The Last Homely House. Yes, that would be nice.

"Be patient with her," Elrond had said to him as he had waved them off when the baby was a month old. That was three months ago. It was wonderful to be back at last where he could create a home for them all and he had set about turning the "lady bower" into a nursery.

"There," he had said to her. "I told you that every woman needed a bower." She hugged him and thanked him for the charmingly carved cot he had made and set about adding to it with an embroidered pillow and coverlet.

"And every man needs a bower too," he grinned to himself. This would be the first night that the baby hadn't shared their bed and he was really looking forward to some private time with his wife. But when they got into bed that night, she snuggled into his arms and immediately fell asleep. Thorin groaned. "I am trying, Elrond," he muttered. "I really am."

Another time, he packed his tools away at mid-day and told her that he was taking the rest of the day off. It was a beautiful afternoon in early summer and they took food down to the river. He made her sit and rest whilst he played with Arion for hours, walking with him and showing him birds and flowers, dangling his toes in the water, jumping him up and down on his knees. Tauriel dozed in the sun whilst he deliberately kept Arion awake. He smiled at the success of his scheme.

As the sun set that evening, Arion immediately fell asleep in his cot and, picking up Tauriel in his arms, he swept her off to their room for an early night. They climbed into their big feather bed, giggling quietly. He undid the cord at the neck of her pretty nightgown and slid the garment from her shoulders, nuzzling her neck and running his hands over her breasts. She held him tightly and murmured his name. He was just pushing up the hem of her gown and she was just breathing hotly in his ear – when Arion started crying. She froze in his arms and then, with a sigh, pulled herself away from him. "I think you got him a bit over-excited today, Thorin," she said as she left the room.

"Oh, so it's my fault," muttered Thorin to himself, thumping his pillow in frustration. She was gone for an hour and Thorin was snoring by the time she returned. A few hours later, Arion woke up again. "'S'alright," he said groggily. "I'll go this time." She reached up and pulled his face down to hers. "Thank you, my love," she whispered, and she kissed him deeply making him wonder if it was possible to ignore the baby's screams and climb back into bed.

Nope, it wasn't. "Stay awake," he commanded her sternly. "I won't be long." Half an hour later, he hurried back to their room and she was still awake. He flung off his nightshirt and, grinning in expectation, he jumped back into bed, clasping her in his arms.

Tauriel yelped quietly: "Get off! Get off! You're freezing! Warm yourself up first." By the time he was warm, she was fast asleep again. Thorin sighed. There were aspects to being a father that he was just not prepared for.

And so the days wore on: joy and delight by day, frustration and disappointment by night.

Thorin came in from the forge and watched Tauriel as she balanced Arion on one hip and tried to stir the stew at the same time. He kissed first his son and then his wife on her delicate throat and sighed. She understood the cause of his gloom and said gently: "It won't last forever, you know. He just needs to grow up a bit."

He took the spoon from her hand and, putting it down, wrapped his arms around them both. "And how long does it take a baby to grow up a bit?" he asked.

She lay her head on his chest, enjoying the feeling of his powerful arms protecting them. It was comforting and comfortable and she felt as though she could shut her eyes and go to sleep right there and then. "Well, it varies." Tauriel tried to sound positive. "But I expect he'll be sleeping well at night in at least a year – perhaps a lot sooner."

Thorin groaned. A whole year! Could he hold out that long? He nibbled the pretty tip of her pointed ear and then said: "I have to travel down to the Grey Havens soon to deliver commissions and buy more supplies. Can you manage on your own for a few days?" The thought made him anxious.

"Well," she mused, "I could visit Dis. I know she'd love to see how her nephew's growing. She only saw him that once when we came home."

He was equally unhappy about her travelling on her own and offered to escort her but she tutted that he was fussing. She could get there within half a day and would go fully armed with bow and knives. "I'm not helpless, you know that."

Yes, he knew it but it was still a strange, uneasy feeling when they parted and he was no longer there to keep them safe.

However, after some hours of travelling, Tauriel approached the dwarven halls safely and in one piece with Arion strapped to her chest in a woollen sling. The warmth of his mother's body and the gentle swaying of the horse meant that he had slept for most of the way. She giggled to herself as she remembered that awful night when the baby had screamed constantly and, in desperation, Thorin had put him in the sling and had then ridden round and round the forge until Arion had finally nodded off. What a wonderful father he was! So good with the child, so rugged, so tender, so handsome, such a muscular chest, such strong arms, such powerful thighs, such..." Tauriel shook herself and dragged herself away from her thoughts. They just had to be patient.

She hadn't visited these halls for more than a year, not since that time when a bunch of dwarves and men had shown disgust at her betrothal to Thorin. She was not too apprehensive about her return because dwarven masons and carpenters had worked on their hall since then and they had been pleasant and apologetic. She guessed that it had all blown over, now that everyone had got used to the idea. But, as she entered the settlement, a small group turned to stare. Their unfriendly eyes followed her down the path and she felt very uncomfortable.

Dis was thrilled to see her and was overcome with emotion when she saw how Arion had grown. He was a big, strong baby with a mop of black hair and startling blue eyes, just like Thorin's. The child was very beautiful, she thought, so like his father in many ways – and yet there was something about him that reminded her of the beauty of elves. He would be tall, she was sure, and would have his mother's grace.

"Oh, Tauriel," she sighed, as she nursed him on her lap. "He reminds me of my own sons. I knew he would." And she wiped away a tear. Tauriel hugged her and the two women sat there together for a long time, just looking in wonder and admiration at the lovely boy.

After they had eaten, they sat down for a cosy chat together. Tauriel had spent most of her life with soldiers and had never had many women friends amongst the elves and so it was a new and comfortable feeling to be exchanging thoughts about husbands and children with Dis. Dis recalled the first years of her own marriage and how life had changed once her boys were born.

Arion was asleep at his mother's breast and they were laughing about the disturbances that had to be endured at night when Tauriel suddenly looked away and said: "Arion has brought so much into my life but I sometimes wonder about the things we have lost and if our marriage will ever be the same."

Dis patted her arm. "It will never be the same. It will always be different. But the two of you can make it better than it ever was before. You just have to work at it."

Tauriel smiled wanly. "I'm so tired," she sighed. "All the time. We never get a single good night's sleep. And we never..." She tailed off, but Dis knew what she meant and patted her arm again.

"Well, perhaps something can be done about that," she said. "Have you ever thought of hiring a nurse? Someone who would look after Arion, particularly at night?"

Tauriel's face brightened. "What a wonderful idea, Dis! That would be perfect!" Then her face fell. "But where do you think I could find a nurse?"

Dis raised a conspiratorial finger. "Just leave it to me. I think I'll introduce you to a likely contender for the position when you've recovered from your journey tomorrow."

The next morning Dis told her about a dwarf woman called Kagris who had just arrived from the Iron Hills. She and Thorin and their brother, Frerin, had known her when they were young and lived in Erebor before the dragon came. They were much of an age and they had played together when she was visiting relatives but, now that she was a grown woman, she was a herbalist and sometimes travelled to different dwarven settlements selling her potions and her skills.

Dis bustled off to visit Kagris and to ask her about their proposal whilst Tauriel sat there rocking Arion, pleasantly wondering about this potential new addition to their family. When Dis returned with Kagris a short time later, beaming and looking very pleased with herself, Tauriel blinked with surprise. She had been imagining some dumpy, homely, dwarven woman with greying hair. But Kagris was quite striking. She was as tall as Thorin and her figure, far from being squat and dumpy, was statuesque and shapely. She had full breasts and rounded hips and her hair fell, long and heavy and a vivid dark red, almost to her waist.

Arion had just woken up and he fidgeted and grizzled restlessly. Kagris smiled with her wide mouth and held out her arms. She took him expertly from Tauriel and sat down with him, rocking him and humming a little song in an undertone. Miraculously, or so it seemed to Tauriel, he snuggled into her pillowy bosom and, within minutes, was fast asleep.

"I don't believe it!" she exclaimed and felt a huge surge of confidence in this woman who obviously knew exactly what to do.

"I've always been good with babies," the woman smiled back, her green eyes dancing. "I think I've just got what it takes." She looked down at her ample breasts and the other two women laughed.

Kagris had just been about to return to the Iron Hills but she was more than willing to stay on and help Tauriel. Some generous terms were negotiated and Dis served a celebratory slice of cake. They chatted for a long while, discussing babies and other pleasant things, and, by the time that Kagris was ready to leave, Tauriel was feeling as if all her troubles were over. They would set off together for the forge on the following day, just as Thorin was due to return. He would be so surprised!

Kagris handed a sleepy Arion back to Tauriel. "I would have known Thorin's child anywhere," she murmured in her smoky voice. "So handsome." She kissed the baby on the forehead and, for a moment, Tauriel wasn't sure if she were talking about the father or the son.

.o00o.

PT II

As the elf and her dwarven nurse rode out together the next morning, Tauriel with the baby strapped to her chest again, her heart lifted and she felt that it was a very lovely day. Her optimism lasted only a short distance. They passed a field where a number of men and dwarves were leaning on the gate. The group had been staring at them sullenly all the way down the lane as they approached and, when they passed – with Tauriel trying to ignore them – one of them muttered something that she didn't quite catch.

She decided to face the antagonism head on and, reining in her horse, she turned and looked the man in the eye, saying in her best arrogantly-elven voice: "You said something?"

Without a flicker, the man looked straight back and in slow, loud tones he enunciated clearly: "I said, the brat was an abomination and that it should be exposed on the mountainside."

Tauriel turned white and, for a moment, she was frozen in her saddle. Then, with a cry, she reached over her shoulder for her knife. But, before her hand touched the hilt, Kagris had seized her wrist and whispered "no" quietly and urgently in her ear. "Think about the child."

And she was right, of course. Her baby must be put first and he was in a very exposed position – not exactly the right place for a fight. Tauriel breathed in deeply and, with a contemptuous glance at the group, she rode on. Their laughter followed her down the lane.

She was still shaking when, a mile later, Kagris made her stop. The dwarf woman leaned over and took her hand. "It's all right," she said. "It's over."

"Something like that can never be over," Tauriel replied fiercely. "They'll pay for that remark."

"Well, be careful how you go about making them pay," the dwarf said. "Those weren't just stupid farm labourers, you know. They were wearing weapons. The men are mercenaries and the dwarves are hardened veterans from the goblin wars."

Tauriel smiled shakily and squeezed Kagris' hand. "It's lucky that I've got you with me," she said. "Thank you for keeping us safe."

The rest of the trip was uneventful and they had a pleasant ride, chatting together and singing to the baby. Thorin still wasn't there when they arrived that afternoon and so Tauriel began to pepare food for an evening meal and directed Kagris off down to the river with Arion.

But soon he came. He swept into the room, smelling of horses and leather, and, lifting her off the floor, kissed her hard and breathed: "I've missed you, Tauriel." But then he looked over her shoulder through the open door of the nursery and then he scanned the room and said anxiously: "Where is he? Where's Arion?"

She laughed and said: "It's all right, don't worry. He's down by the river with his new nurse."

"His nurse? He's ill?" Thorin was beginning to panic.

"No, stupid," smiled Tauriel, kissing him gently. "Not that sort of nurse. This is a wonderful dwarf woman who will help me look after him." She paused, and grinned. "Especially at night."

"At night?" he echoed. And then he laughed and, hugging her to him, he kissed her soundly. "I just can't wait," he whispered in her ear.

But Tauriel pushed him away and sent him down to the river to meet the new arrival whilst she got on with the meal.

Thorin felt elated. At last, an answer to their problem. He could hear a woman singing softly beyond a line of trees and he smiled because it was a song his mother used to sing to him as a child: "The wind was on the withered heath." Rather a mournful song, as so many dwarven songs were, but babies seemed to like it. The woman had a rich contralto that was very pleasing and, as he approached, Thorin couldn't help but join in, his deep baritone harmonising well with that of the nurse:

"There shadows lay by night and day/And dark things silent crept beneath."

He came through the circle of trees – and stopped in his tracks. An idyllic, domestic scene lay before him. The river danced and sparkled over rocky stones; the trees rustled slightly in a cool breeze; his son was sleeping in a wicker baby basket tied to the branch of a tree and a woman was gently pushing the basket to and fro as she sang. The woman had dark, red hair which tumbled down her back to her waist. He couldn't move.

The woman turned and smiled with that wide, soft mouth he remembered so well.

"Kagris!" he gasped.

"Thorin," she said huskily.

She walked towards him and stood very close. She had always done that, he thought, disturbing all the dwarven youth of the Lonely Montain with her nearness. "So," she said softly, "you remember me." Her green eyes looked at him through long lashes and held him in a mesmerising stare.

Yes, he remembered her. She was difficult to forget. She had visited the Lonely Mountain from the Iron Hills on a regular basis when he was young and as he grew into manhood. He had been one of those young dwarves who had followed her around, gazing at her, adoring her, hoping that she would drop the tiniest crumb from her table, however small. She had teased him, ruffling his hair and sometimes blowing him a kiss, but she had a huge number of admirers, some of them rich and powerful dwarf-lords, and among them was his older brother, Frerin, heir to the throne of Durin.

Thorin's infatuation reached a peak when he had come upon Frerin kissing her; they were locked in an embrace on the grass together and she was kissing him back in a wild and unrestrained way that had left Thorin breathless. He hated his brother at that moment and his jealousy caused a breach between the two of them. Frerin laughed and wanted to know why she would ever be interested in a "boy" and Thorin sulked and dreamed about sweeping her off her feet, winning her from right under his brother's nose. All these youthful emotions came to a bitter conclusion when his brother was killed at the Battle of Azanulbizar and Thorin finally became a man.

He hadn't seen her for years and now she was standing so close that all his memories of her threatened to overwhelm him. She touched his cheek and her eyes seemed to hypnotise him. Like a spell, he thought. And he remembered the skills that she had developed as she got older. These were not just those of a herbalist.

On some days, she would appear at the entrance to the forges, deep down inside the Mountain. She would stand there, dressed in long, white robes, and the smiths, including Thorin, would respectfully cease from their hammering. She would move – to Thorin, it always seemed as if she floated – from furnace to furnace, casting some aromatic powder into the flames and chanting as she moved. She was binding the metal with ancient and mighty spells and the blades that she empowered and the wrought gold and silver that received her enchantment were infused with such beauty that dwarves and elves and men lusted after them.

There were not many like her who had the power but it drained those who used it and, in the end, Kagris possessed it no more. But, at that moment, as he lost himself in those green eyes, Thorin felt her old magic.

With a huge effort of will, he stepped away from her and turned to his son. "And so you're his new nurse?" he asked. "How has that come about?"

He had broken the link that she had tried to establish between them and so she answered sweetly, "Your wife needed me and I agreed to help. She is a very lovely woman and you have a very beautiful child."

Her flattery softened him and he helped her take down the wicker basket and carried his son back to the hall.

Tauriel laughed when she saw them return together. "Now, wasn't that a surprise for you, Thorin? Dis told me that you were all friends when you were younger." Well, perhaps "friend" wasn't quite the word he would have used, but Thorin smiled pleasantly and said that, indeed, it had been a wonderful surprise.

They ate an enjoyable meal together, the women talking and laughing as if they had known each other for years. Kagris fitted in well, moving easily from table to baby when the need arose, feeding him and rocking him quickly back to sleep, efficiently working in the kitchen and tidying up so that, magically, the evening passed smoothly and quietly with Tauriel and Thorin hardly moving from their chairs.

"Isn't she wonderful?" exclaimed Tauriel, hugging the dwarven woman to her. Kagris set down a tray of mulled wine, made to a special recipe of her own and flavoured with some of the herbs that she stored in her pouch. It was delicious and they sat around talking of this and that in a desultory fashion whilst they sipped it.

"Have you ever been married?" asked Tauriel.

"Yes, twice. My first husband was killed in the goblin wars and my second just recently at the Battle of the Five Armies. Sadly", she said, gazing down at Arion who was lying in her lap, "I've had no children of my own."

Tauriel touched her arm in gentle sympathy.

"Many good men, elves and dwarves died that day," said Thorin sombrely.

"And mine was one of them," agreed Kagris. "But now I must make my own way in the world."

Tauriel had to admit to herself secretly that she was glad of this and was very pleased that Kagris' path had brought her to Dis' settlement that day.

They made up a bed for her in the nursery and Kagris took Tauriel's hand and told her that she was not to worry about a thing. If she heard Arion crying then she was not to come running – his nurse would look after him.

And so, Thorin retired to bed with his wife. She lay in his arms, smiling. "Alone at last," she whispered.

"Not quite," he retorted and they listened for a moment to Kagris moving around with Arion in the other room.

She kissed his throat and then she planted a series of little kisses across his chest. He murmured her name, kissing and stroking her hair. Then she touched him and he let out a deep groan.

"Sshhh," she whispered. "Kagris will hear us."

"But, I can't shush," he protested, "not if you touch me there."

"Well, now that Kagris is here, perhaps you should try."

He rolled away from her with a sigh. "I just can't do it, not while Kagris is in the other room. I just can't."

They argued for a little while in fierce whispers and then went to sleep.

Kagris heard the whispers resolve themselves in silence, smiled and went to sleep too.

.o00o.

PT III

The next day was an enjoyable one for Tauriel. Usually she was on her own with Arion, struggling one-handedly with other tasks whilst Thorin worked in the forge. Now, Kagris worked alongside her, making everything seem easy and fun. How had she managed without her? Thorin had found some rabbits in his traps and the dwarf woman was putting together what promised to be a delicious rabbit pie whilst bouncing Arion in a sling she had constructed in the nursery doorway. The baby was shrieking with delight as he jumped up and down and watched the two women in his life set about their household chores.

Tauriel put out some bread and cheese for their mid-day meal, but Thorin seemed involved in his work and preferred to stay in his forge. She took a plate out to him and he stopped his hammering, coming over to her and and sliding his arms around her waist. He reminded her of the first time they had shared a meal together. "We ate your lembas bread and my cheese and sat at this table. I couldn't stop looking at you." He kissed the tip of her nose. "I really wanted you, but I was too pigheaded to admit it to myself. Did you realise I was hoping you would stay with me that night?"

"Yes," she smiled. "I wanted to stay too. But it seemed so impossible – an elf and a dwarf."

"Everything about us seems impossible, including Arion," he said. And he ran his hands through her silken hair, feeling the strands slide through his fingers. "And everything about you feels impossibly good," he whispered, and his hands fumbled for the buttons on her shirt. But she gently pushed him away and went back to the hall.

It was a warm day and, after she had sat with Kagris shelling peas in the sun, Tauriel began to feel sleepy. "Why don't you take an afternoon nap with Arion on the bed," the dwarf woman suggested. I'll finish off peparing the vegetables and then perhaps see if I can clean out the forge a bit.

"I'll doubt if Thorin will let you mess around with his forge," Tauriel laughed, "but you can try."

She took Arion and lay down with him on the feather bed and soon they were both fast asleep.

Kagris stood in the entrance to the forge. Thorin was aware of her but continued with his hammering. "Tauriel's asleep," she said, "but she thought I might tidy the forge a bit." Between the beats of the hammer, he grunted that he would prefer it if she left things alone. But she still came in, examining the long line of tools set out in an orderly fashion on his work table. The tips of her fingers ran lightly over them. Their edges were sharp and their wooden parts were smooth and polished from use. She picked up a chisel and stroked its shiny handle, looking at him as she did so. "Put it down," he snapped. "You'll hurt yourself."

She put it down carefully and smiled. "You were always grumpy, Thorin," she said.

She wandered over to the furnace. "How I loved the dwarven forges in the Lonely Mountain," she said softly. "The smell of sweat and burning charcoal and hot metal. The beating of hammers on anvils. The sheer power of all those smiths working to produce swords and tools and things of beauty."

And she walked behind him and, delicately touching his shoulder, traced the line of his muscles from shoulder to elbow. A tremor ran through him and he stopped working.

"What are you doing, Kagris?" he asked, and his voice came out in a rasp.

"Remembering," she said softly. "Do you remember, too?"

"Yes, I remember, Kagris," he answered tersely. "I remember the lust, the desire, the wanting, the pain. And, in particular, I remember your teasing and the way you played off me and my brother one against the other."

She was very close and her lips brushed his shoulder. Thorin's stomach clenched.

"Ah, yes, but you were so young then. Who would have thought that an awkard young lad with a mane of black hair would have grown up to be such a man. Who wouldn't want Thorin Oakenshield in their bed?" And her breath was hot upon his neck.

He stood immobile for a few moments, feeling her closeness. But then he raised his hammer again and said: "Go back to the house, Kagris. You won't find what you want here."

"Won't I?" she murmured. "I just think I might." And she laughed her teasing laugh and sauntered out of the door.

That evening as they sat eating the rabbit pie, Tauriel finally found the courage to tell Thorin what had happened on their way back from visiting Dis. She could only guess at his reaction and was reluctant to stir up trouble for them all. When she told him how their child had been called an "abomination", he roared and rose to his feet. For a moment she almost thought he was going to seize his sword and take his revenge that very night.

She put a calming hand on his arm. "Kagris saved us," she said. "I forgot I had Arion around my neck and I was all ready to kill them. But Kagris stopped me and, as we rode away, she pointed out that they were armed mercenaries and veterans."

He sat down again and Kagris said calmly: "These are things you must face together. Your relationship will always be unacceptable to some and you must harden yourselves to their words. They are only words and you must forget about them."

That night, in bed, Thorin comforted Tauriel. "I knew you shouldn't have gone on your own," he said.

"But, if you had been with me, things might have been worse. Kagris was wonderful. I can imagine she must have been a very special member of your group when you were younger."

All this talk of Kagris made him even more aware of the dwarf woman on the other side of the thin wooden walls. The thought of her listening to him making love to Tauriel cooled his ardour once more. He had a feeling that, although things would come to a fight – with both women – Kagris would have to go, whatever the cost. As usual, he lay on his back finding it difficult to get to sleep.

.o00o.

Kagris was also awake, pleased with the silence from the other room. Every night, she made sure that Thorin was aware of her, bustling around in the nursery, sometimes even disturbing Arion slightly so that he grizzled which resulted in her singing to him in her low, husky voice. She sang loudly enough for Thorin to hear.

She always got what she wanted and she would have Thorin. After the death of her second husband, she had looked around the Iron Hills and there were no suitable admirers to choose from. Moreover, many of them, over the years, had grown tired of her flirting. Two husbands were dead and they had also begun to see her as unlucky. Her thoughts roamed further abroad – and settled on Thorin. He was recovering from battle wounds in the halls of the Lonely Mountain – and he was a fabulously wealthy king. But then, suddenly, he gave up his crown to Dain and disappeared back off to Ered Luin to be a smith – or, at least that's how the rumours had it. However, he had still received a hefty share of the dragon's hoard so, in the end, she packed up her herbs and potions and set off on a journey to the Blue Mountains to visit his sister, Dis.

She was shocked when she learned of his marriage to an elf. And there was a baby too. She listened to the gossip and realised that some felt quite extreme revulsion; many thought that the marriage couldn't last and that he would cast her off. An elven marriage was forever but this was not a purely elven marriage. It wasn't, in fact, purely anything. When Dis came to her, suggesting that she offered her services as a nurse, it was as if fate were throwing Thorin in her way.

And when she saw him again, she knew she must have him, by whatever means.

.o00o.

PT IV

The next day, Thorin was working in his forge as usual, Tauriel took Arion down to the river and Kagris was left to tidy up. But, soon she wandered into the forge again. She placed her hand on the bellows and asked him teasingly: "Shall I stoke your fire, Thorin? Or is it hot enough?"

Thorin lay down his tools firmly and with determination.

"Kagris," he said, "you have a week to pack up and leave. You're not wanted here and I would prefer that you left me and my family on our own."

She seemed undisturbed by his remark and, moving in closely to him, she said: "Well, I think that Tauriel will have something to say about that, don't you? She really can't do without me, you know. What reasons are you going to give for my dismissal? That, before her, I was the woman you desired most in the world and you find my presence disturbing? That you fought with your brother over me? That you can't make love to her or sleep at night for thinking of me?" And she reached up and played with the silver betrothal ring hanging about his neck.

"How long is it," she murmured, "since you two made love? How long will it be before she lets you bed her again? Children do that to a marriage, you know. Her love for you has changed into her love for Arion. I doubt if she wants you any more." Her finger traced a pattern across his chest and Thorin stood very still. "Now me, I never had children. I understand these matters, you see." And she leaned forward, pressing her breasts against him, and kissed him. Her hand ran behind his neck, tangling in his hair, and she held his lips against hers, her mouth slanting sideways, her tongue entwined with his own.

For a moment, his body nearly betrayed him and he responded, but then he pushed her away with a cry of disgust. "Stop playing your games, Kagris," he snarled. "You have two days. And I shall find a way to explain things to my wife."

She gave him a disbelieving smile and went back to the house.

That evening, Tauriel hummed happily around the kitchen. She didn't seem to notice the tension that existed between her husband and her nurse. Kagris worked alongside her, preparing her mulled wine for later that evening, and then fussed over Arion and got him ready for bed.

The meal passed pleasantly enough, mainly because the two women found many things to discuss; then all three sat relaxing on the hall's comfortable chairs, sipping the mulled wine and exchanging details of their day. Occasionally, Kagris looked at Thorin over the rim of her cup and he almost thought that she was about to say something damning about their relationship to punish him for his rejection of her. But, all she did was look at him in that disturbing way of hers.

"Kagris," said Tauriel, "you really must tell me how you make this wine – what herbs you put in it."

"Well, said Kagris, "the special trick is to know each guest and then to put in different herbs in different cups that will be just right for each of them." She looked at Thorin again. "I'm sure I know you two very well by now and I hope I have chosen precisely the herbs that you need."

Tauriel exclaimed over her cleverness but Thorin, for some reason, felt uneasy.

The evening wore on and Tauriel suddenly yawned. "I don't know what's wrong with me," she said with a smile. "I've had such an easy day but I just can't keep my eyes open. I must go to bed." She rose and Thorin moved to go with her. "No, it's all right, Thorin," she said, "you can keep Kagris company for a bit longer. She must get fed up with all these early nights."

Thorin sat down again; he knew that she just wanted to go to sleep and was dismissing his company. He took another swig of his wine. He really didn't want to be left on his own with Kagris and he glowered at her from under his dark brows, but she only smiled back.

When Tauriel was gone, he continued drinking. He really couldn't see that he had an obligation to talk with her. "Cat got your tongue?" she said with an amused look in her green eyes. He ignored her and raised his wine to his lips once more...but he couldn't get rid of the feeling that she was waiting for something.

He finally drained his cup and said: "I think I've kept Tauriel waiting long enough." And he went to get out of his chair. But the room spun and he fell back down again. Damn! That wine was potent, he thought. Now he would have to go drunk to Tauriel's bed. Kagris laughed softly and he looked across at her. She seemed to be surrounded by a golden haze and he rubbed his eyes.

"Ah, Thorin," she said in a dark and sultry voice that echoed inside his head, "how like your brother you are at times. Such a handsome, fiery young dwarf lord as he was. Do you remember that day you found us?"

Yes, Thorin remembered. He had been out hunting and had come across them in a leafy glade.

"You were so angry. So jealous. You wanted to kill him, didn't you? And he could have killed you too because you interrupted us in the middle of the act. Do you remember, Thorin? You watched us for a while from behind a tree. Do you remember?" And her voice became sing-song and seemed to drag him back into the past. He looked on the floor and he could see them on the grass, half-naked, a tangle of arms and legs and red hair. "You watched us, didn't you?" she crooned. "You wanted so much to be your brother at that moment – lying on the grass with stones digging into your back with me on top of you and my red hair falling over your face. Just imagine..." and her voice trailed off. And suddenly he was Frerin. He felt the damp grass and the sharp stones; he felt her full breasts brushing his naked chest as she straddled him. Her hair was like a silken curtain all around them, screening him from the world, so that all he could think about was her. He was panting with desire and she was whispering urgently in his ear: "Finish it, Frerin! Finish it now!" And he pulled her down towards him...

"Thorin!" screamed Tauriel in an anguished voice. His first response was anger because someone had stopped him in what he was doing. And then he felt horror as he opened his eyes. He was lying on the floor with most of his clothes scattered beside him and with Kagris lying half-naked on top of him. She was laughing. But Tauriel stood in the door, her eyes wide with their betrayal. Thorin tried to thrust the dwarf woman away and get to his feet but he couldn't; his limbs seemed leaden and cold. He felt locked in a nightmare where he waded slowly through deep water whilst the real world rushed past him. As he struggled to his knees, he saw Tauriel cross the room with Arion in his sling and, although he reached out to her with a slow and heavy gesture, she was gone and, moments later it seemed, he heard the sound of hooves galloping away.

He pulled himself to his feet but Kagris still sat there laughing. She held out her arms and said, "Come back down on the grass, Thorin. She's not coming back, you know. Let her go. Let her return to the elves where she belongs. You belong here with me." And she patted the floor and, for a moment, it seemed like grass again.

"What have you done to me?" he gasped. "The wine..."

"What have I done, Thorin?" she replied. "I only gave you what you wanted all those years ago. And what I know you still want," she purred, rising and taking him in her arms.

He pushed her roughly away from him and his lip curled. "Do you really think that I could want you more than I want my beautiful wife?" He looked at her with disgust. "You were just a boy's fantasy. Tauriel is not a fantasy; she is real and the sort of woman that a man wants." He had put on his clothes and was making for the door. "Don't be here when I get back," he said.

He guessed that she would first go to Dis to get help for her onward journey but when he thought of the insults and aggression she had received at the settlement, he was afraid. He went to the forge and ran his head under the pump, trying to dispel the fogginess that still slowed his movements. And then, from their hiding place, he took Orcrist and his axe, and slipped on his coat of chain mail. Then he saddled his horse and thundered after her.

.o00o.

Tauriel just wanted to get as far away from Thorin and the forge as possible. The image of her half-naked husband lying on the floor, groaning and panting and clasping Kagris in his arms, was seared upon her memory. Why hadn't she known? Why didn't she guess? They had been young together. Kagris was a beautiful dwarf woman. She belonged to his race. What dwarf wouldn't want her? And she had practically thrown Kagris at him, leaving them together, giving them opportunities to seek out one another's company. She wondered what had happened in the forge when she had slept the other afternoon. Kagris had even had the gall to tell her she was going there; and yet she had suspected nothing. She wondered at her own naivety.

Well, they could have each other. She would return to Mirkwood and raise her son on her own. The other elves would give her patronising looks as if to say that they had been right all along. And, of course, they had been. You can never trust a dwarf! If only she had remembered that, then perhaps she would not now be in so much pain.

And so she rode on in the dark.

Morning had come when she neared her destination. She was very, very tired and only her concern for Arion kept her awake. And then she turned a corner to find six of them – three men and three dwarves – strung out across the road. They must have seen her coming, she thought, but they gave her little time to react. One grabbed her reins and the horse reared. If she had been on her own, this would not have been a problem, but her hands flew to protect Arion and two of the men pulled her from her horse. The dwarf woman who had insulted her when she first came suddenly stepped out from behind a tree and, cutting through her sling with a sharp knife, tore Arion from her arms.

The men held her tightly and the woman stepped away with Arion. Tauriel screamed for her to give her back her child but she only hurried further away behind the line of villagers.

"You shouldn't have come back with that abomination," said a swarthy dwarf. "You bring shame to our race and your own."

"Don't hurt him," she wept but they only laughed at her tears. "What are you going to do with him?" she cried.

"We're taking him to the mountain where he should have been taken when he was born," they said. "The wolves can have him."

"I think not," rumbled a deep voice; and, suddenly, the head of one of the men who was holding her was swept from his shoulders by a bright axe. The other released her with a startled look of horror on his face and Tauriel leaped back to stand beside her husband, her long knives scraping from their scabbards as she did so.

They felt no mercy and showed none. The remaining men and dwarves drew their weapons but Tauriel's flashing blades and Thorin's sword and axe swept lethally among them and soon all were lying dead or dying by the roadside. The dwarf woman clutched a crying Arion to her but Thorin pressed Orcrist to her throat and said: "Give the baby back to his mother," and, with trembling hands, she did so. Then they let her run away.

Thorin led Tauriel gently back to his horse. He lifted her and Arion onto his saddle and then mounted behind her, letting Tauriel's horse trot obediently behind. He clasped them both tightly in his arms – the things he loved most in the world – and slowly and gently they rode home, back to the forge.

Kagris was gone. "She won't be coming back," he said.

He put Arion in his cot where he slept soundly and he carried Tauriel to their bed where he undressed her and tucked her in like a child. Then he made her food and drink and sat by her bed like a strict parent until she had finished it. And then he took off his own clothes and climbed into the bed beside her.

They faced each other with their heads on the pillow and Kagris lay like a shadow between them.

"Tell me," she said.

And so he told her about his youthful lust for Kagris and how she had sought him out in Ered Luin and how he had rejected her. And then he told her about the hallucination when he had believed that he was Frerin.

"I shall never forget seeing you two together," she said. And his heart was torn in two when he saw her pain. "I know, my love," he whispered, "but perhaps I can make the memory of it fade." She kissed him then and held him tightly against her breast. And they made love tenderly and slept in each other's arms all night until Arion woke them in the morning.

.o00o.


	4. Chapter 4 Thorin to the Rescue

Arion is growing up. But how content is Tauriel with just being a wife and a mother? And is there an alternative? Read on and find out.

.o00o.

THORIN TO THE RESCUE

PT I

As the rising sun filtered through the bedroom windows, Thorin thought there was absolutely no other place he'd rather be. He snuggled up closer to the sleeping Tauriel and, with a wicked grin, calculated that there was at least an hour before their son, Arion, was likely to wake up. He nuzzled her neck and murmured her name, gently trying to rouse her. At last, she stirred, and sleepily kissed him on the nose. He took this to be an encouraging sign and, slipping an arm around her, pulled her to him, pressing his full length against her own. She opened her eyes and smiled at him, wriggling more closely into his arms. He let out a passionate sigh.

Someone knocked loudly at the door.

They were both startled by this unexpected caller. "Quickly!" said Tauriel. "Get dressed, Thorin!" She could hear Arion stirring and, as Thorin threw on some clothes, she pulled a robe about her shoulders too.

Thorin padded bare-foot across the hall feeling very hard done by. "They had better have a good reason," he muttered to himself, as he flung open the door. He took a step back in surprise when he found Lostwithiel, the only elf from Thranduil's court who had been pleasant to him two years earlier, standing on the doorstep with a cheerful smile on his face.

"Ah, Thorin," he said. "Hope it's not too early for you, but I'm just passing through on my way to the Grey Havens and I've got a few things for Tauriel from Mirkwood." He peered over Thorin's shoulder and saw Tauriel – a delightfully dishevelled vison – standing with her son on her hip and looking curiously at him. He invited himself in, brushing past Thorin, and raised her hand to his lips. "I apologise for the early hour," he murmured, looking up from her hand with a charmingly boyish grin. "As beautiful as ever." She smiled back warmly and dismissed his concerns, inviting him to sit at the table and saying that she would cook them all some breakfast.

"Hadn't you better get dressed first?" said Thorin brusquely. She was still in her embroidered robe and he noticed Lostwithiel's eyes wandering over her. He took Arion from her and she disappeared off to the bedroom and then to the kitchen.

Thorin didn't know what it was about elves, but even pleasant ones like Lostwithiel made him feel awkward, coarse and clumsy with their graceful movements, witty conversation and smooth, beardless faces. Lostwithiel sat down and chatted easily about his journey from Thranduil's court in Mirkwood. "There's trouble on the northern borders," he said. "And it's moving south. After the Battle of the Five Armies, many orcs and goblins dispersed and we've had a quiet time of it, but now they're regrouping. There's a meeting in the Grey Havens. I'm Thranduil's representative and he has told me to stay as long as I'm needed."

Thorin frowned. A few years ago, any engagement with orcs and goblins would have been a pleasure but now he had a wife and child to worry about. "I'll keep in touch and let you know what's happening," said the elf. "You're in an isolated position here and, if they raid any further south, you might have to move to the Grey Havens." Yes, he just might, but he hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Tauriel brought in the food and they talked more about the current dangers and then they sat chatting together with Arion playing on the floor between them. Lostwithiel had a letter for Tauriel from Thranduil and a small bag of Mirkwood crafted toys for Arion. He was more than a year now and could crawl; he would be walking soon. He emptied out his presents with delight and homed in on a wooden ball which was, in fact, six balls, one carved beautifully inside another. The ball fascinated him and he sat there with quiet concentration, poking and hooking them around with his small finger.

All, in fact, sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Tauriel read Thranduil's letter which spoke mainly of her lost life in Mirkwood: the continued battles with the spiders, the hunt for orcs, goblins and wargs hiding out in the forest since the great battle, trips down to Dale to marvel at its successful and impressive reconstruction. Now and again, she smiled or laughed at something that Thranduil said but, mostly, she thought about her previous life as captain of the king's guard and her present life as wife of a smith and mother of a beautiful child. Did she miss her life at court? She didn't know.

Thorin sat and glowered, wondering what it was that Thranduil was saying that was so funny. He wished he could be witty and amusing and glowered more the more she smiled. He could have done without the company of an elf this morning, even if this was a friendly one. He thought back to the feast that Thranduil had held in the Grey Havens when Lostwithiel had been the only one to approach him with a pleasant word.

Lostwithiel was also thinking about the feast. My, but this dwarf was a fool. Hadn't he realised yet that he had been trying to cause trouble between him and Tauriel with his sly comments and barbs? Obviously not. He looked at Tauriel and he looked at Thorin. What a beautiful woman she was! What an excellent captain she had been. She could have married Thranduil but, here she was, married to a smith, someone, moreover, who had handed over his power and kingship to another. Yes, he was a fool. Lostwithiel could just about have understood things if she had married Thorin for his title and the dragon's hoard. Almost, but not completely. The dwarves were a race apart. Here was Tauriel: delicate, slender, light of foot, gifted with immortality and the wisdom that came with a long life. And there was Thorin: broad-shouldered, muscular and powerful, brooding and black-browed, slow-thinking and short on temper and years. No, he could neither accept it nor understand it.

And now there was a child. Yes, the child was beautiful but he had been born of a union that left a bad taste in the elf's mouth. And yet it also made Tauriel seem bold and exotic. What sort of woman would marry a dwarf? What was in her mind when she entered into this relationship? What had made her want to bed him? What would she be like to bed herself after such an abnormal experience? The thought aroused him.

Thorin looked up and offered to show the elf around his hall and forge. Lostwithiel found himself to be surprisingly impressed. The hall section was lofty and well-built, the beams of its roof supported by carven pillars and an imposing stone fireplace. There were flowers everywhere and the elf felt quite at home. The child's room was bright and airy and the main bedroom was dominated by a most lovely bed, elven in style, which only made Lostwithiel's thoughts about what must take place in it even more salacious. Their marriage was a perversion and he could not get past how the bed seemed to emphasise these perversities.

Thorin was steadily expanding the accommodation and the most recent addition was a guest suite attached to the far side of the forge. ("No more situations like I had with Kagris," Thorin had said with wry determination. "Our guests can keep to themselves.") The forge itself was well-laid out and superbly equipped and this had been extended too with a small room off for the young lad who sometimes came to help. ("Ah, I shall miss that old bed in the corner," Tauriel had said with a naughty grin, as Thorin set up a bunk in the new room.) The elf admired some of Thorin's fine work – it really was superb, he'd give the dwarf that – and placed a commission for a silver shoulder-clasp for his cloak. And then he set off for the Grey Havens, promising to visit again or send messages so that Thorin would know if the situation began to worsen.

Thorin waved off the elf with a feeling of relief and Tauriel put Arion down for a nap. "All that playing with his new toys has worn him out," she laughed, tidying her son's presents away.

Thorin came up behind her and, sliding his arms around her waist, murmured huskily in her ear, "Well, I think his father would like to play too."

She turned in his grasp and, as she often did, teasingly held onto his plaits, kissing him fiercely until he was breathless. But then she wriggled out of his arms and packed him off to the forge to design the shoulder-clasp.

"Tonight," she whispered.

"Promises, promises," he retorted.

.o00o.

But, they had had an early night and she had kept her promise. Now the sun was rising on a new day once more and Thorin was awake. She was turned away from him and Thorin curved himself around her back. He kissed the nape of her neck and gently bit her ear. She began to rouse and he fitted himself more snugly. "We've got a whole hour, Tauriel," he said.

There was a loud rapping on the door.

Thorin jumped from his bed, flung on his clothes and stomped out of the room. "And if it's Lostwithiel," he shouted over his shoulder, "I shall slam the door in his face and come back to bed!"

But, much to his amazement, on the doorstep stood the wizard, Gandalf.

Thorin was more than pleased to see his old friend but he stared grumpily at him and said: "And what time do you call this?"

"Time for breakfast, I should think," said Gandalf with a twinkle, and swept past him into the room.

.o00o.

Gandalf demolished a good breakfast, dandled Arion on his knee for a bit and then set about telling them of his business there.

"I've been up with the Rangers, patrolling our borders north of here," he said; and the twinkle had gone from his eyes. "Things are getting difficult, you know, and the Rangers are only just about containing the situation. The orcs will break through in the end and we must be prepared."

"What can I do?" said Thorin, leaning across the table and looking grim. There was nothing he wouldn't do to protect Tauriel and Arion. "Are you expecting me to help out in the north?"

"No," returned Gandalf. "I'm expecting you to stay here and forge weapons. That is your skill and that is where you can help the most." He leaned back and sighed. "It's more complicated than that. I was at the meeting in the Grey Havens last night and we talked about the defence of the region. The settlement where Dis lives should be well-guarded because there are sufficient dwarves and men there who are experienced fighters. And stationed at the Grey Havens is a troop of elves who are well able to hold off even a reasonably serious attack. But we are concerned about the isolated farms, cottages – and forges," and he looked around the hall, "like this one, which are scattered throughout the foothills of the Blue Mountains."

"So, what you need," interrupted Tauriel, "is a roving band like the Rangers who have an established base in the mountains from which they can send out patrols."

"Spot on," smiled Gandalf. "But, the problem is, who will make up this band? The dwarves and men have demanding daily lives and cannot leave their homes; the elven soldiers in the Grey Havens are committed to the town." Tauriel lifted an eyebrow in expectation of an answer.

"Well, last night," continued Gandalf, "we asked for volunteers from amongst the young elven lords. Most of them can handle a bow, swing a sword and ride a horse. They just need knocking into shape."

"Ah," said Thorin, looking quite pleased, "and you'd like me to do the job?"

"No," said Gandalf, and his sharp eyes looked amused, "I'd like Tauriel to do the job." Before he could stop himself, Thorin snorted, and then he could have smacked himself on the wrist because his wife looked daggers.

"And who more suited?" she asked indignantly. "I was the captain of the king's guard in Mirkwood; I've lived with soldiers most of my life; I know what's needed to train them up; and, moreover, the recruits are elves – they would never take orders from you, Thorin."

All this was true, Thorin admitted. But he had got so used to thinking protectively about his family that he had almost forgotten Tauriel's past life. "But what about Arion?" he asked gently. "I can't look after him if I'm making weapons in the forge."

Tauriel looked at Gandalf expectantly, assuming that the old wizard had an answer.

"Well, I think that Dis would be more than willing to help out if it's only for a limited time."

"What sort of time period are you talking about?" asked Tauriel.

"Not too long. There's a partially ruined farmhouse up in the hills about two hours' ride from here. It has sweeping views of the countryside and would provide a good outpost for the group. I can imagine you setting up a boot camp there where you could improve their skills, teach them some useful woodcraft and take them out training on night patrols."

Tauriel began to look excited but Thorin's brows were darkening.

"I'm thinking a couple of months. Lostwithiel is one of the group and I want you to train him to be your second-in-command – your sergeant – so that he can take over when you're not there Gandalf continued blithely on, ignoring the storm clouds that were gathering.

"And when WON'T she be there?" growled Thorin. "When does she get to see her child – and her husband?"

"Well, I'm imagining her doing a solid block of four weeks and then riding home for the night every four or five days. Once they're trained, I suppose she could visit the outpost once a week to keep an eye on things and to exchange information with Lostwithiel." He paused and then looked Thorin in the eye. "It's an important job that should, in the end, fit in with her home life. It's something that Tauriel was designed to do." He gave a small smile and then waited for the explosion.

Much to the wizard's surprise, it never came. He could see the struggle on Thorin's face and wondered what was going on in his head. Thorin was suddenly remembering his drunken conversation with his horse when he had been too afraid to ask Tauriel to marry him. Would she be willing to marry a simple smith, he had wondered? And would she get bored at his isolated forge and leave him? He looked across at Tauriel and saw the excited glow in her eyes. He would be a fool to stop her.

He sighed: "It's entirely Tauriel's decision," he said. The look of love she sent him almost, well, ALMOST, made up for the thought that he would be spending a lot of lonely nights without her in the upcoming weeks.

"I'll do it, Gandalf," she said.

.o00o.

PT II

Gandalf bustled about over the next few weeks. He brought Dis down from her home and she moved happily into the guest suite. "It's not just Tauriel who likes to feel that she's doing a useful job," she said.

Ten young elf-lords, headed up by Lostwithiel, set off for the farmhouse from the Grey Havens. Thorin organised a string of packhorses to transport all sorts of useful equipment up to the proposed outpost, and Tauriel gathered together her own things for her departure. She got out her captain's outfit, her knives and her bow. She hadn't worn these for some time now and they felt comfortable, like old friends.

On their last night together, Thorin made love to her as if he would never let her go. Afterwards, as he lay with his arms and legs still tightly entwined in hers, she whispered, "And don't you dare tell me that was one to remember you by."

"No," he said, "this is the one to remember me by," and his lips descended on hers once more.

.o00o.

As Tauriel rode off the next morning with Gandalf and the packhorses in tow, she was feeling a bit guilty about her husband and son. Arion had waved quite cheerfully, in fact, not realising that his mother wouldn't be back in a few hours. But he looked very happy, perched on Dis' hip, and she was confident that he would be more than content in the care of his loving aunt. However, Thorin looked so miserable that she almost turned her horse around and galloped back to him so that she could kiss all his frown-lines away. She knew that he was finding it difficult to be parted from her but, it wasn't forever, and her task was an important one. Her own family's safety and the safety of everyone in the area could depend on how well she trained her little group.

"You might find these elves not exactly the kind of soldiers you're used to working with," laughed Gandalf as they ambled up into the foothills. He was accompanying her so that he could help her with the pack horses and then he was returning to the northern borders.

"In what way?" she asked, wondering if she really wanted to know.

"Well, they're not soldiers, for a start. They're men-about-court; the type that elegantly waft around being witty and charming, not doing anything in particular. You know, the type that really annoy Thorin. They're unlikely to endure hardships willingly; they like their food hot and they like it on time; and they usually give orders rather than take them."

"Oh, dear," said Tauriel, pulling a face. "So, why on earth have they volunteered for this job?"

"I think, Tauriel, it's because, after endless years of doing nothing in particular, a few of them have decided that they are bored. They want a bit of excitement and adventure in their lives."

"Well, I wouldn't call going on endless foot patrols, sleeping on the wet ground, eating cold rations and never encountering the enemy a life of excitement and adventure."

"Yes, but they don't know that yet," grinned Gandalf. "Strike while the iron is hot and toughen them up before they realise it."

"Don't worry, Gandalf," she laughed. "That's what I intend to do."

When they approached the "outpost", Tauriel was pleased with what she saw. Although the building was a bit tumbledown, most of it had a roof and there was also a run of stables. It was perched on a prominent hill and she could see for miles. No-one could attack them without being spotted first from a considerable distance – at least during the day. There was a stream and a copse where they could gather wood for a fire. Once the place was tidied up, it would function more than adequately.

No-one was on guard, however, and she found them all huddled in the main room around a miserable, smoking fire. Start as you mean to go on, she thought, grinning to herself.

"Atten-SHUN!" She yelled in a powerful, commanding voice. And all of them except Lostwithiel, sprang startled to their feet and then tried to stand up straight like regular soldiers. What a bunch, she thought. Lostwithiel leaned against the mantelpiece with a certain elegant nonchalance and smiled at her. She wanted to smile back but it would be bad for discipline. "Sergeant!" she snapped. "Where are your look-outs? If we were orcs then you would all be dead by now!"

Lostwithiel looked surprised – and annoyed – at her tone. But he moved away from the fireplace, stood up straighter and apologised, saying that they had only just reached the farmhouse themselves.

She glared at him to indicate that this was no excuse and ordered him to organise the men to unload the packhorses and to put her own horse in the stables. He took them outside and she and Gandalf heard a lot of confused shouting and neighing. Gandalf snorted with laughter. "Good start, Tauriel! I think they're all terrified of you already."

"And so they should be," she replied. "My first function is to give them a hard time."

"But watch out for Lostwithiel," Gandalf continued. "He obviously thought you were a friend of his and was expecting a soft ride."

She shrugged. "Well, he'll just have to learn the hard way like all of the rest," she said. But she felt a little uneasy.

When the packhorses were unloaded, Gandalf said his farewells, taking a string of the horses with him. "Good luck," he winked as he set out.

She sorted out the equipment, handing them all a bed–roll and weapons in the form of killing knives, bows and arrows. They had brought their own swords which looked very shiny as if they had never been used. She then gave them all "uniforms" which were made of tough, hard-wearing material, in colours that would blend in easily with their surroundings and included elven cloaks which would keep them dry and warm and which could be used as blankets when they were out patrolling at night. The elves looked horrified at the clothing. They had all come dressed in expensive outfits made of fine materials in bright colours.

"But we can't wear these," objected one, a tall, thin lordling called Rostrel. "Why do we have to wear a uniform? After all, we ARE volunteers. Can't we wear our own clothes?"

"Of course you can," said Tauriel amiably. And they all looked relieved. "That's if you don't mind being wet and cold and being a prime target for the first orc arrow we encounter."

No-one complained again about the clothes.

There were still a few sticks of furniture lying about the place. The big kitchen had a useful table and some rickety chairs and Tauriel ordered that the new pots and pans be stored in the cupboards. There was a big iron stove and she thought it would prove to be quite an efficient space once she had organised it. The number of bedrooms upstairs meant that they all had to double up except for her and Lostwithiel. She decided that Lostwithiel could have the single bedroom and she would take a spare room downstairs that would serve both as her sleeping quarters and as an office. It was good to be apart from the men – it gave her more authority.

She then handed out the cleaning equipment and, to their further horror, ordered them to clean and tidy the farmhouse. She kept two of them back to pack away supplies and then got them – rather clumsily – peeling vegetables for their evening meal. They all set about their tasks in a bad temper, but she smiled when she saw that, as the afternoon wore on and they began to chat and feel a modicum of success when their tasks were completed, that the mood began to lighten.

"We've finished, sir," reported one of the vegetable peelers.

"Well done, soldier!" she said to him in clipped accents. And he looked very pleased with himself.

When they had all eaten and were feeling rather clever that, between them, they had managed to produce an edible meal, she gave them their first real lesson: how to construct a fire that caught quickly and burned efficiently with the minimum of smoke. They all laughed at each other's failings; then those who managed first began to help those who were having a hard time of it and Tauriel was very pleased to see these first signs of team-work and camaraderie.

They had had a long day and wanted to sleep. "Ah, yes," said Tauriel. "Sleep. But first what do we need to do, Sergeant? Lostwithiel looked blank and then said: "Organise the look-outs."

"Well, then, Sergeant, I'll leave it in your safe hands." She then went off to her room whilst Lostwithiel tried to organise a rota of guards for the night.

When she got up the next morning, the two guards from the previous shift were still on duty but asleep outside the farmhouse, while the ones who should have been on duty were still asleep in their beds. Tauriel, awake before any of the others, went to the kitchen, then stood outside the front door clashing two pans together until they all stumbled groggily outside looking completely dazed.

They were dressed – sort of – but she made them line up in the rain whilst she inspected them, walking around them and staring until they became quite nervous. She stood behind Borondin who obviously spent a lot of his time in front of a mirror grooming his excessively long hair which fell to his waist. "Am I hurting you, soldier?" she asked in gentle, concerned tones.

"No, sir," he replied in surprise.

"Well, I should be!" she yelled in his ear. "I'm standing on your hair! Get it cut!"

The others started to grin but then she went back down the whole line finding a reason to shout at every single one of them.

"It took me years to grow it that long," complained Borondin as a fellow soldier cut his hair to the statutory shoulder length.

"Well, I can imagine that the captain would say that an orc could use it to garrotte you with," came the laughing response. "She's a one, isn't she?" And they all agreed but didn't seem too displeased that their captain was a tartar.

During the course of the day, Tauriel instructed Lostwithiel on how to organise his troops and he sent them out to fill water barrels, to cut wood and to hunt for food. Life at the farmhouse began to take on a regular pattern and she found that she didn't have to repeat her instructions. That night, the look-outs were sorted without any fuss and no-one fell asleep on duty. Tauriel went to her room feeling very pleased with her progress.

She had cause to feel even more pleased with herself as the week progressed. She set up target butts so that they could practise with their bows. They were reasonable, like every elf, but she was able to improve them, increasing their speed and accuracy. She gave them lessons with the killing knives. Only a couple of them had ever used these before but they were all light on their feet and soon they were beginning to feel comfortable with these weapons. However, she had a problem with their swords. It wasn't that they couldn't use them but that the swords themselves were not suitable for fighting orcs. They were much too light and orc weapons would cut them in two after only a couple of strokes.

Most nights, either she or Lostwithiel would take out a night patrol. Elves saw well in the dark and they knew how to move quietly but these patrols were intended to familiarise them with the area and to help them learn how to work as a group, ready for any encounter or attack. She also wanted to harden them to physical discomfort and, although they complained a lot at the beginning of the week, there was not a single grumble by the end of it and wretched hours spent out in the rain and the dark made them really appreciative of the spartan comforts of the farmhouse. Given the opportunity, elves learned quickly and they no longer seemed like raw recruits after only seven days.

The following week, during their day patrols, she used that time to improve their woodcraft, teaching them to track the spoor of orcs, goblins and wargs, laying trails for them to follow and increasing their orientation skills. She held daily meetings so that they all felt involved and asked for suggestions which might improve both the comfort of the farmhouse and their effectiveness as a group.

"What about a warning beacon?" suggested Durandan. He was one of the brightest in her troop and often came up with good ideas.

She praised his suggestion and he blushed with pleasure. They all went outside to survey the ground. From their high seat, they could see many of the farms and cottages that they were trying to protect, including her own forge. They chose a likely spot and, after rummaging around in the old stables, they emerged triumphant with various pieces of scrap metal from which they rigged a brazier. They filled it with hay, twigs and small logs of wood and erected a cover over it to keep the fuel dry. They then stood back to admire their work.

"Well, done, lads!" said Tauriel, genuinely pleased with their team work. The elves grinned at each other. It felt really good to be called Tauriel's "lads"!

.o00o.

PT III

After two weeks, Thorin was really miserable. He couldn't sleep without Tauriel in his bed and he worried about her all day long, wondering just how safe it still was up in the hills. A fortnight had passed and it would still be another two weeks before he saw her again. And so, on the fifteenth day, he got up in the morning, saddled his horse, packed half a dozen swords that he had recently made and told Dis that he was visiting Tauriel for the day.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" asked Dis. "Isn't it better to leave her alone so that she can sort out her life up there?"

"Well, Gandalf wanted me to take these swords to her when I had finished them." It was a lie, but a good one. "The sort of blades those elven lords carry around with them at court are not fit for purpose. She'll want these as soon as possible so that she can get them practising with a proper sword. They're much heavier and they'll take some time to get used to them." And so Dis argued with him no more and she and Arion waved him off.

By chance, Thorin had hit upon precisely the right lie because the swords were exactly what Tauriel needed. When he turned up at the farm-house, the look-out confronted him and he replied mildly that he had the swords for their weapon practice. Half of the group were out hunting but Tauriel, Lostwithiel and four of the others were engaged in sword-play with the elven blades and Tauriel was feeling frustration at their inadequacy. Thorin produced his own swords then joined in with the training, cheerfully ignoring the irritated signals that Tauriel was sending him. The young elves found him very skilled and he soon had a group of admirers. They proudly showed him what they had achieved in the farmhouse and pointed out the beacon that they had constructed.

"I'll make you a proper one when I have a moment," he said. "But yours looks as though it'll last for some time. Good job." The elves fairly glowed.

Only Lostwithiel stood apart and watched him, wondering at his intrusion and also considering whether or not this changed the rules of the game.

After a couple of hours, the group broke up for food and Tauriel said in a strained voice: "I'd like to see you in my office, Thorin."

Yes, grinned Thorin to himself. He'd like to see her in her office too. She marched off down a corridor and Thorin followed, thinking she had a pretty wonderful rear. As she entered her room, Thorin followed closely, swinging around to pin her up against the door as it swung to behind them. With a groan, he covered her mouth with his, feeling for the collar of her shirt and undoing the buttons with skilful fingers. He pressed himself up hard against her, laughing into her neck, ecstatic to feel her in his arms again . "I see your office has a bed in the corner," he murmured in that dark voice that usually sent shivers down her spine. But, Tauriel was furious and pushed him away. When he just laughed again and came back for another kiss, she gave him such an angry shove that he guessed it meant "no".

"No?" he said.

"No," she said. She adjusted her clothing. "What are you doing here, Thorin?"

"Delivering swords?"

She gave him a look.

"Visiting you because I've been without you for two whole weeks and I can't bear it any more?"

He looked so penitent, like a naughty little boy, that she almost gave him a hug. But she resisted the temptation.

"You do realise that your being here could seriously undermine my authority?" she said. "And I want you to go now."

"Sorry, Tauriel," he whispered. And he looked up at her with his big, blue eyes through long dark lashes.

He was irresistible. "Oh, Thorin," she snapped in exasperation. Then she grabbed him by his plaits, gave him a rough kiss and pushed him away again. "Home!" she said, opening the door and gesturing.

Thorin grinned and edged out the door. "The journey was worth it," he said.

"Home!" she repeated, pointing down the corridor and he reluctantly retrieved his horse and rode back to the forge.

Meanwhile, in the the farmhouse kitchen, the conversation had got interesting. "Of course," said Lostwithiel, "you know who that was?"

"I know he's a damn fine swordsman," said Rostrel. "He taught me some pretty good moves out there."

"Did I gather he's a smith?" said Lithin. "The one who made those swords? He said he'd make us a brazier."

"Well, that makes him a damn fine craftsman too," said Rostrel, determined to defend the new object of his admiration.

"He's also," said Lostwithiel, "our captain's husband."

A shocked silence fell upon the room.

"No!" exclaimed Rostrel finally and in disbelief.

"Yes!" said Lostwithiel. "And they've also got a child."

A murmur of disgust ran around the table. "Didn't you know?" asked Lostwithiel innocently.

They hadn't known although a couple had vaguely heard that an elf had married a dwarf. That the elven bride was their captain and that the dwarven smith who had taught them some sword-play that morning was the husband took them by complete surprise.

"And what do you think they're up to in her office at this very moment?" Lostwithiel continued.

They all guessed and they all felt complete revulsion.

.o00o.

That afternoon, after Thorin's departure, Tauriel knew straight away that things had changed. No-one would meet her eye. They obeyed her orders slowly and reluctantly. They whispered in corners. Tauriel knew that they were whispering about her and Thorin and that her secret was out. Not that she had thought about it as a secret. Surely everyone knew about her by now? Lostwithiel had known about it, after all, and she had thought he must have told the rest as soon as the troop was formed. She had hoped that her excellent relationship with these elf-lords and the respect that she was receiving from them was all in spite of her marriage. She had hoped that her marriage did not matter to anyone any more. But she had obviously been wrong. Thorin's arrival had revealed all and now she no longer had control over her own men.

She was upset and she was angry. That night she went to bed especially early because she couldn't face them any more. She lay in the dark on her bed roll, staring out at the stars, and didn't know what to do. Finally she fell asleep.

.o00o.

Tauriel awoke with a start. For a moment, she thought she was back at the forge, in bed with Thorin. A hot, naked body was pressed against her own, a hand was tugging at her nightgown and a moist pair of lips were forcing her own apart. She realised almost instantly that this person wasn't Thorin because he was hurting her and Thorin never hurt her. The hand pinched and squeezed her painfully and he was sucking on her lower lip, drawing it hard into his mouth and biting it.

Her eyes flew open – and it was Lostwithiel. She pushed his face away and, forcing her knee up between their two bodies, she broke the lock he had on her and kicked him from her bed. She lay there, panting in shock, but Lostwithiel just rolled back towards her and reached out for her again. He gave a sly, unpleasant laugh. "Oh, come on Tauriel. I know you want to play. I can stay all night – and every night when we're not on patrol."

She sat up in absolute disbelief. "You've got a very distorted image of me, Lostwithiel," she snapped. "Get out of my room!"

But he only climbed back onto the bed roll. "Oh, I love a woman who gives me orders," he leered. He tried to pull her back down again, twining a hand in her hair. "You know what you are, Tauriel," he panted, "what you want. Let me show you."

It was at this point that Tauriel lost her temper completely. She drew back her fist and punched him on the nose.

"Ow!" yelped Lostwithiel. "That really hurt!" He felt his nose gingerly. "You've broken it!"

"Good," said Tauriel. "Now, get dressed and get out. We'll talk about this in the morning."

He pulled on his clothes sullenly whilst Tauriel put on her shirt and breeches too. She didn't feel too dignified glaring at him in her nightgown. He went to the open window and began to climb out.

"And where are you going?" she barked.

"Back on guard duty," he muttered.

"You mean you're one of the look-outs tonight?" Tauriel could hardly believe it. "Who's with you?"

"Borondin...And don't glare. You know we don't really need more than one. You just want to make our lives more of a misery."

With that, he slipped from the window. She heard a thud followed by a grunted exclamation and she hoped he had tripped over in the dark. She went to the window to close it. And a large, brutish hand shot in, grabbed her viciously by the hair and yanked her out into the night. Before she could even yell, something hit her on the head and she lost consciousness.

.o00o.

PT IV

When Tauriel regained consciousness, she was being shaken by an orc who grunted and threw her back on the ground once more as soon as he could see that she had recovered her senses. She looked around and saw Lostwithiel being shaken and kicked in a similar manner and he groaned and came to as well. Their hands were tied behind their backs and they were half way up the side of the mountain that rose behind their farmhouse. So, the orcs had come the hard way, over the mountain, she thought. She wasn't surprised that they had had no warning. That was a hole she'd have to plug once she got back on duty. Then she grimaced to herself. IF she got back on duty.

It was still dark but a few grey streaks were showing in the sky. She looked around and counted eight of them, all big bruisers. They hadn't been killed so they were wanted for questioning and were doubtless being dragged back to some lair further north.

"Tauriel," Lostwithiel whispered. "Are you all right?" He was booted for his pains. She nodded and raised a questioning eyebrow. He nodded in return. They had been carried this far but now, she thought grimly, they would have to walk and climb with their hands behind their backs, "And me with no shoes on my feet," she muttered to herself. It was going to be a long day.

Back at the farmhouse, there was panic. Borondin had been seriously wounded but he had managed to crawl back to his sleeping fellow soldiers and raise the alarm. When they found both Tauriel and Lostwithiel gone, there was a lot of frantic shouting and running around until Durandan yelled: "Shut up! Sit down!"

They obediently sat down around the big table and looked to their clever comrade for suggestions.

"Now," he said, "be calm and ask yourself: what would the captain do?"

Mention of their captain made them square their shoulders.

"Well," said Farond, "she'd look after her men first and make sure that Borondin was being cared for properly." They all nodded in agreement. Yes, their captain would always look out for them. "And so, I think, we should patch him up as best we can and then send someone down to the dwarven settlement to warn them and to fetch back a physician." They all nodded in agreement again and Lithin volunteered to go.

"Then," said Lithin who was usually shy and slow to put himself forward, "two of us should stop here with Borondin to look after him and guard the place; one of us should set out to the Grey Havens to warn them of what has happened here and the others should follow the tracks of the orcs and at least find out where they are going, even if we can't stage a rescue yet."

There was a murmur of approval. "And there's the beacon too, of course," he added.

"But, even if we lit it, no-one knows yet what it means," said Farond.

"Except the captain's husband," put in Durandan. "If we light it, he'll come up here to find out what's going on. I think he's entitled to know."

They all agreed and went outside to light the brazier. The wood caught very quickly and, as it blazed brightly in the night sky, it seemed a very solemn moment to them; and the burden and the meaning of their work at the outpost came home to them at last and their faces looked grave and stern.

.o00o.

Thorin had tossed and turned throughout the night. It still wasn't yet dawn. He lay on his back and banged his head against the pillow. Dis had been right. Going to see Tauriel had been a bad idea – those kisses had definitely not been enough and her image swam before his eyes constantly. But she seemed to be doing very well up there with her little team and, seeing her in operation and noticing the respect in the eyes of the elves made him feel very proud of her.

He grinned to himself as he remembered how she had lost her temper with him. He would so enjoy making things up to her once she came back home to him. He devised innumerable ways of making things up to her but this just made sleep even more impossible. In the end, he grabbed his pipe and went outside for a quiet and calming smoke.

Thorin sat on the bench in front of his hall and gazed up at the fading stars. He looked towards the foothills and imagined Tauriel somewhere up there, asleep at the farmhouse. He wondered if she were having trouble nodding off too. Perhaps she was also wide awake, looking up at that same set of stars and thinking about him.

He could see a very bright one – very bright and very large. Thorin suddenly leaped to his feet. It was the beacon! His heart pounded in his chest and he realised that it was fear. He banged frantically on the door of the guest rooms to rouse Dis and then ran into the forge where he dressed in his mail coat and grabbed his sword, his axe and his stout dwarven bow. Dis emerged bleary-eyed as he ran past to the stable and he yelled and pointed at the beacon. She stared in horror and stood well back as his horse thundered past her out of the yard.

Thorin drove his horse hard and he made very good time. He was met at the door of the farmhouse by Rostrel who told him quickly and precisely what had happened. His wife and Lostwithiel had been captured by orcs. Borondin had been badly wounded. Lithin had gone to rouse the dwarves and bring back a physician. Another elf was already riding to the Grey Havens whilst four more had found out the direction of the orc tracks and were in pursuit. Thorin collected Tauriel's knives from her room and Rostrel showed him the tracks behind the house.

"They came down over the mountain. You can't take your horse – you'll have to go on foot."

Thorin was not particularly concerned that he was several hours behind the orcs. Dwarves were fast over rough ground and had immense stamina. And fear would drive him hard. As the dawn broke, he overtook the elven scouts. "Keep following the trail," he shouted as he ran past. "Catch up as soon as you can." And they marvelled at his speed.

.o00o.

As Tauriel had guessed, she and Lostwithiel were having a hard time of it. They had been forced to climb the steep mountainside with their arms bound and with the orcs pushing and hauling them along all the way. In the end, they had reached a mountain pass where the going was flatter but now they were being made to run. Elves were good runners but Tauriel was better at it than Lostwithiel who had not had her training. But he was, at least, wearing boots. Tauriel tried to run on grassy patches but her feet were cut and bruised. Every so often she fell forward on her face – deliberately – and the orcs were forced to stop or she would gradually run slower and slower, even when they laid their whips across her back, so that their whole pace slowed. Lostwithiel looked at her with concern but she winked at him and he understood. He started to do the same thing and, finally, when they both lay apparently collapsed on the ground and a good kicking hadn't roused them, the orcs were forced to carry them and slow their pace once more.

In the end, they got fed up with carrying their captives and, as the sun rose higher, concluded that a rest and some food might give the elves back their strength. They sat in the shelter of a low cliff and lit a fire. And that's where Thorin finally found them.

He wriggled on his stomach to the edge of the cliff and counted their numbers, relieved to see that Tauriel still appeared to be OK. Not too many, he thought, but he would do his best to reduce them to a manageable quantity. There was a large boulder perched on the cliff top and there were at least two of them sitting underneath, in front of the fire. Tauriel and Lostwithiel were sitting off to one side, at a safe distance, he reckoned.

Thorin put his back to the boulder and gave it a heave. Nothing moved. He tried again, straining until the veins stood out on his throat and neck. He concentrated his huge strength on the task and thought of Tauriel. Suddenly, the boulder started to move...and it was over the edge. The orcs had some warning from a little rush of pebbles, but before those with their backs to the cliff could move, the boulder came bouncing down the cliff and crushed two of them beneath its great weight.

The remaining six orcs leaped to their feet with a startled cry, imagining that they had been caught in a landslide.

Tauriel sat there quietly smiling.

Thorin slid swiftly down the side of the cliff and, by the time the orcs had begun to wonder if it had been a normal landslide after all, he was standing there with his bow. They gawped but as they lunged for their own weapons, two went down with arrows in them. Thorin leaped forwards and slashed the ropes that bound the captives with his sword. He threw them each one of Tauriel's knives and then the three turned to face their foe.

"Four of them, three of us," sighed Tauriel with a devilish sidelong glance at her husband. "We appear to be outnumbered."

"I'll just have to even things out then," said Thorin, grinning. And, suddenly, his axe was flashing through the air and an orc fell with the axe buried in his skull.

"One each," shouted Lostwithiel in glee and they advanced upon the remaining orcs. It didn't take long. Orcrist and the elven knives were a blur of motion and, within minutes, all the orcs were dead on the ground.

The three stood there panting and grinning at each other. But then Thorin turned and took Tauriel in his arms. She yelped and Thorin said with concern: "What hurts?"

"Everything," she groaned. And he made them both sit down whilst he looked at the damage that had been done to them. They both had cuts and bruises on their faces and knees from where they had fallen constantly. They both also had bruised backs and ribs from the whipping and kicking. But Thorin could have wept when he saw Tauriel's feet, cut to shreds as they were. He kissed them gently and she could see his distress. "It's all right, my love. They'll mend," she said and she touched his hair softly.

He picked her up in his arms. "It's a long way down," she said.

"And I shall enjoy every minute of the journey," he responded, kissing her carefully on the tip of her nose which seemed to be the only bit not scratched or bruised.

They hadn't got far when the scouts finally reached them. They were able to help Lostwithiel but Thorin would let no-one but himself carry his wife. When they reached the farmhouse, they were met with resounding cheers. Everyone had arrived back and Borondin was recovering well after a visit from the physician.

"Thorin and Tauriel were magnificent," said Lostwithiel. "I owe my life to them." He then looked around the room, meeting all his comrades' eyes. "I think we are the luckiest troop in Middle-earth to have such an outstanding captain. And to have her husband, too, is an amazing bonus."

The cheers and applause that followed this announcement were so heartfelt that the tears ran down Tauriel's cheeks.

"And what captain," she said, "could ask for a better troop of men? Tauriel's Lads. Your actions today would do justice to some of the best outfits in the country."

They smiled modestly at each other but Tauriel could see that they were practically squirming with delight at her words.

Thorin was insisting that they go home that evening. "I'll bring her back in a week when she can walk properly," he said.

"And do you think," asked Rostrel shyly, "that you could sometimes come and give us a bit more weapons' training?" Thorin was touched and was more than happy to agree.

As Thorin went off to prepare his horse, Lostwithiel sidled up to her. He cleared his throat and said, "Umm...about last night."

Tauriel touched her swollen and bitten lip and looked at his broken nose. "Well, with all our other injuries, I don't think these exactly stand out. So, if you don't tell, neither will I." And she laughed at the relieved look on his face. "You did well, soldier," she said quietly.

"Thank you, sir," he said and he stood erect and saluted her.

.o00o.

Dis had made a great fuss of her when they finally reached the forge late that evening. Finally she had been shooed away and, with a bit of assistance, Tauriel got ready for bed. As he helped her onto the deep, downy mattress, she let out a long sigh. "Oh, Thorin," she said, "I can't tell you how glad I am to be home."

He got into bed beside her very carefully and they lay facing each other on the pillow. "I knew you would come," she said.

"Never doubt it," he said.

He went to put his arms around her and then hesitated because he didn't know which bit to touch.

"Not tonight, Thorin," she said gently.

Thorin sighed. "No, I guessed as much."

"Perhaps tomorrow night."

"Promises, promises," he said and then he kissed the tip of her nose, closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep.

.o00o.


	5. Chapter 5 Thorin and the Girl

Arion is growing up and Thorin and Tauriel would like another child. But, how easy will it be for them to achieve another dwarf/elf pregnancy? I introduce another character in this episode. I hope you like her.

.o00o.

THORIN AND THE GIRL

PT I

It was a lovely, late, autumnal morning, right on the cusp of winter, when Thorin and Tauriel rode down through the foothills after a successful trip to the outpost. Tauriel had completed the eight weeks' training of her "lads" and she was now only visiting once a week. This time, Thorin had come with her to do some weapons' training and everyone had had a good time. Lostwithiel and the troop had been very pleased to see her, even though she had been absent for only seven days and they had welcomed Thorin with enthusiastic admiration, knowing that, by the time he went home, their skill with sword, knife and bow would have taken a substantial step forward.

They had spent an uncomfortable night there, squashed onto a hard and narrow bedroll together, but they had laughed and kissed and made love in the frosty dawn. Now they were riding back to the forge where Thorin's sister, Dis, was looking after their son, Arion. When the spring came, he would be two, thought Thorin, and couldn't believe that he was growing up so quickly.

Suddenly, and without warning, Tauriel leaped from her horse, bent over and was sick. Thorin was at her side immediately, supporting her and holding her long hair back from her face. "What's wrong?" he asked with concern. But, as she lifted her head, she was smiling.

"Guess," she said.

He stared blankly and then, gradually, daylight began to dawn. "You're pregnant," he whispered in amazement and, when she nodded, he lifted her from the ground, hugging and kissing her in disbelief. Then he put her down quickly and carefully. "I'm sorry," he said anxiously. "I haven't hurt you, have I?"

"Of course not," she said. "I'm not made of glass."

But he continued to treat her as if she WERE made of glass for the next couple of weeks. He wouldn't make love to her "in case I hurt the baby"; he didn't want her to do any household chores "in case you hurt the baby"; and he didn't want her to ride up to the outpost again "in case it hurts the baby". Finally, Tauriel persuaded him that regular daily life was quite normal and Thorin's concerns were reduced to only asking her a dozen times a day if she were "all right". He had missed most of her pregnancy with Arion and he was as bad as a fussing, first-time father.

The days passed and she laughingly told him that her pregnancy dated back to the night when he had told her that he was giving her something to remember him by, just before she had first set out for the outpost and a separation of four weeks. The first time he had used that phrase it had led to the birth of Arion. "So, don't you dare speak those words lightly again," she said, waving her finger at him. "It seems to work like a magic charm."

"Well, he responded, "perhaps a magic charm will come in useful because you must know I want at least a dozen children!"

The days passed happily. Dis came down regularly to look after Arion if they were both up at the outpost and she was thrilled at the thought of another niece or nephew. It even registered with Arion who asked constantly when the new baby was coming.

But their happiness came to an unexpected end when, one evening, as they chattered and laughed at the dining table, Tauriel suddenly bent over, clutching her belly in pain. Thorin helped her into bed but, a few hours later, she had lost the child. The physician came and assured Thorin that, physically, she would be fine in a few days, but... "Be kind to her," he said.

After four days, Tauriel still lay lethargically in bed. She stared out of the window, didn't want to talk and edged away from Thorin in bed at night as if she couldn't bear for him to touch her. After a week, when Thorin was becoming exhausted with cooking and cleaning and looking after Arion as well as trying to work in his forge, Dis finally said to him, "You must make her talk to you, Thorin."

And so, that night, Thorin got into bed and took Tauriel in his arms even though she flinched away. He held her tightly and kissed her hair and told her how he loved her and how he needed her. He told her that Arion loved and needed her too and that her lads at the outpost couldn't manage without her either. He told her that he would always love the child that they had lost but that they had to think of the child they still had.

And in the end, Tauriel burst into tears. She was afraid that she would never have another child because he was a dwarf and she was an elf – that, somehow, Arion had been a fluke. Since the baby had died, she had dreamed, night after night, that she held a little, golden-haired girl in her arms. She couldn't stop crying but Thorin rocked her against his chest and, in the end, she fell asleep. When the morning came, she got out of bed and went about her daily tasks. At night, she slept quietly in his arms. But a sadness hung all about her and Thorin knew he needed to do something more.

The weather was cold but bright and sunny. And so Thorin took her and Arion away to the Grey Havens for a few days. He hired the same house overlooking the estuary which they had lived in two years before and Tauriel sat out on the balcony, wrapped up against the cold, and listened to the gulls and watched the ships come and go. And, then, she smiled and said that she was ready to go home.

She looked happier and Thorin returned to the Blue Mountains with his family, hoping that everything would now be as it had been before. As the horses clattered into the yard, Thorin was glad to be back at his hall. He looked towards the forge, thinking about all the commissions he needed to get on with and, to his horror, saw the door swinging on its hinges.

Thorin leaped from his horse and rushed to the forge. He checked out his hiding place first and was relieved to find that it was intact with all his valuable items inside. A few of his tools seemed missing but that was all. He was just thinking that he had got off lightly when suddenly his heart went cold: he had been working on a gold torc at his bench and, in all his distress over Tauriel's condition, he hadn't put it away. And now the torc was gone. Tauriel came to the door.

"The torc has been stolen. I'm going after the thief," he snarled.

.o00o.

Tauriel got a pack of supplies ready for him. She didn't try to stop him because she was just as angry as he was that someone had invaded their home. Then they went together to check on suspicious tracks in and around the forge until they found a likely set.

"Looks like a dwarf," she said, "and they look quite fresh."

"One of those mercenaries from the settlement perhaps," he suggested. But the tracks didn't lead toward the dwarven halls but up into the mountains.

"I think there's just one of them," said Tauriel, "but please be careful. He must have been desperate to break in here and, if you corner him, he might be dangerous. That torc's worth fighting for."

Thorin kissed her and Arion and then set out. It was mid-afternoon but the early winter sun was already sitting low on the horizon. He made good progress but, in the end, darkness descended, and he could follow the tracks no more. He was just setting up camp for the night when he suddenly saw the flickering light of a fire in the distance and he wondered if had caught up with his thief at last.

A small figure was hunched over near the fire and Thorin guessed it must be the dwarf. He could see him rifling around in a bag and bringing out the golden torc which he seemed to be examining with some glee. So, thought Thorin, there he was. Well, he wasn't going to get much further.

He lunged into the clearing and grabbed the stooping figure from behind. His muscular arm shot around the dwarf's neck, tightening on his wind-pipe so that he began to choke.

"Aaargh! Geroff! Lemmee go!" came a squeaky, gasping voice and Thorin nearly dropped his captive in surprise. This wasn't a dwarf. He dragged him to the firelight for a clearer view and was taken aback to find that his dwarf was, in fact, a man-child, and not even a male but a small girl.

For some reason, this made Thorin angrier. He had been burgled by a little girl! He grasped her wrist tightly and shook her. "I'm the smith whose forge you broke into and I've come for my torc," he growled.

"Ow! Oww!" wailed the child. "You're really hurting me, mister! You're breaking me wrist!" And she began to grizzle. Thorin felt like a brute and loosened his grip. The girl twisted away from his hold, kicked him so hard in the shins with a heavy boot that he was left hopping and, producing a knife from somewhere, slashed it down his arm. Then, with lightning speed, she picked up her bag and disappeared into the bushes.

With a roar of fury, Thorin plunged after her and, seeing her small figure disappearing off into the darkness, made a flying tackle, catching her by the ankles and bringing her down. The breath was knocked from her body and, sticking her under his arm, he strode back to his horse and tied her hand and foot.

She was crying and looking pathetic. "What yer gonna do with me, mister?" she asked.

Thorin ignored her. He was trying to bind the slash on his arm which was quite deep. "Where did that knife come from?" he snarled.

"Down the side of me boot," the girl said sullenly. So, he examined her boots to make sure she had no more concealed there. Then he put the torc in his own pack and slung her face down like a sack over the front of his saddle. He mounted behind thinking that the best thing to do for the moment was to get home and then perhaps take her to the Grey Havens for the elves to sort out the following morning. But he would tell her nothing. Let her stew.

The child started grizzling again. "Oww! The saddle's poking in me gut. It's hurting me. Don't leave me like this." Thorin was concentrating on getting his horse down the hill in the dark and he ignored her.

"Oh, me stomach. I shall be sick in a minute. Let me down."

Thorin said nothing.

"I shall be sick and I won't be able to stop meself. I shall be sick all over your nice, shiny boot."

"You're a liar and a thief," said Thorin, and you won't catch me out a second time."

At that moment, she was violently sick all over his nice, shiny boot.

"Told you so, mister," she said, sounding quite justified. "Now are you gonna let me down?"

"No," said Thorin grimly.

She seemed resigned to her fate. "So, what's your name, then, smith?"

"Thorin," said Thorin. "What's yours?"

"Rose." She was silent for a bit. "That was a nice torc," she sighed. "I really wanted that."

"I bet you did," snorted Thorin. "Do your parents know where you are and what you're doing."

"Ain't got no parents. I look after meself."

Thorin had guessed as much. "So, how old are you then?"

"Twelve," she said.

"Hah!" said Thorin.

"Well, how about ten, then?"

"How about eight?" he replied.

She grumbled, but finally admitted to that age. "But, don't think I can't look after meself just because I'm only eight."

"Oh, yes," said Thorin, "you're so good at looking after yourself that, at this precise moment, you're all tied up and slung over my saddle bow."

"Well, you took me by surprise," she complained.

"Oh, I beg your pardon," said Thorin sarcastically. "The next time I'm trying to catch a thief, I'll announce my presence."

"I had to eat, didn't I?" she protested.

But Thorin had no pity. "Then why not steal a loaf of bread?"

She was silent and he continued to negotiate the steep track.

"So, what you gonna do with me?" she finally asked again.

"Take you to the elves in the Grey Havens, I expect," was the curt rejoinder.

"Ow! Not the elves!" she whined. "I hate elves! I've got a real thing about them!"

"Well, we might just have something in common there," Thorin grinned. "I'm not so keen on elves in general and I've got a thing about one elf in particular."

"What elf is that then?" she asked curiously.

"My wife," said Thorin.

.o00o.

PT II

With no tracks to follow, Thorin was a lot faster coming down the mountain than he had been going up, even in the dark, and it didn't seem long to Tauriel before she heard his horse on the cobbles outside. She ran to the door to find him dismounting. "I've caught our thief and I've retrieved the torc," he revealed. Then he grabbed a bundle from the horse and carried it squirming into the house.

He dumped Rose unceremoniously on the floor where she lay glowering. Tauriel stepped forward to have a look at their captive and gasped in amazement, "But...it's a little girl!"

"Yes, and she's as slippery as an eel. Don't go near her – she's really vicious. I've got a huge bruise on the side of my leg and she did this to me." He held up his arm, wrapped in a bloody rag, and waited for her to show some gentle concern. Instead, Tauriel looked angrily at him and said sharply: "How could you do that to a child, Thorin? Get her untied this instant!" And she knelt down by the girl's side, patting her gently and telling her that everything would be all right.

Rose looked suitably pathetic and let some giant tears roll pitifully down her cheeks.

"These ropes really hurt, lady," she said in a stoical little voice. "I asked him not to put me over the saddle bow but he wouldn't listen and then I was sick."

"Thorin!" gasped Tauriel in a shocked voice. "How could you? She can't be more than nine."

"Eight," muttered Thorin and knelt down to undo Rose's bonds. She was a funny little thing, all eyes and a mass of short, dark hair which she had obviously cut herself with a knife. He fully expected her to make a run for the door; instead of which, she sat there rubbing her wrists and looking up at Tauriel with big, distressed eyes. "Thank you, lady," she whispered bravely. "I'll be all right now."

Much to his irritation, his wife took the girl's face gently between her hands and kissed her on the forehead. "Are you hungry?" she asked. "Would you like something to eat?" And, of course, Rose nodded enthusiastically.

Tauriel sat her up to the table and set out some food for them all. Rose stuffed food down her throat as if she hadn't eaten for a week. And perhaps she hadn't, thought Thorin.

"Tell us about your parents," Tauriel enquired gently.

"Both dead," said Rose between bites. "Me dad died six months ago."

"And what did your father do?" Tauriel's face was full of concern.

"He was a thief," the girl said baldly. "Taught me all I know."

"He obviously didn't teach you table manners," snapped Thorin, slapping her hand away as she made a grab for the last piece of cake.

"Thorin!" cried Tauriel.

But Rose turned to her and said knowingly: "He's really grumpy, isn't he? That's because you didn't kiss it better."

Tauriel gave her a quizzical look. "Kiss what better?"

"His arm, of course." And she gave a gurgle of laughter and Tauriel laughed heartily along with her.

Thorin was beginning to feel that they were both ganging up on him and thought that Tauriel was losing track of the fact that this child was a thief and that she might have made off with something extremely valuable. It was time to get a few things sorted.

"I'm taking her to the elves tomorrow, so, the question is, what do we do with her tonight? As soon as we're asleep, she'll be gone."

"Well," she could sleep in with Arion," suggested Tauriel.

Just as Thorin was about to say that no way was she going to share a room with his precious son, Rose asked Tauriel who Arion was and then side-tracked into a stream of questions about him. "Me, I like babies," she said. "Always wanted a baby bruvver or a sister."

Tauriel gently stroked her hair and smiled at her: "And you scarcely more than a baby yourself," she said.

Thorin banged the table, making them both jump.

"I will NOT have this vagabond sleeping in my son's room!" he snarled.

"Well, perhaps you'd like her in our room?" said his wife sweetly. "Or perhaps she'd like to sleep with me while you go out to one of the guest rooms. Hmmm?"

"Oh, I'd like that," said Rose, hugging Tauriel. "I sometimes used to sleep with me muvver – before she died." And she gave her a mournful look.

Thorin felt control of the situation slipping away from him. "No, what I was actually thinking," he put in firmly, "was that she could sleep out in the forge. I could chain her to that pillar and then she won't be able to run away in the night."

Both of them looked at him aghast. "Thorin!" cried Tauriel. "I can't believe you just said that!"

"Well, being chained to a pillar in the forge was obviously good enough for me; why not for her?" he said with a pointed reference back to the first night they had met.

"Because you're a fully-grown dwarf and she's only a child." Rose blinked innocently and tried to look suitably child-like.

They argued back and forth with both of them getting more and more heated and, in the end, a bed was made up for Rose in front of the fire on the hall floor. She snuggled down on the feather pillow between clean, white sheets. "Ooo, this is cosy," she said. "Best bed I've ever slept in." And she fell fast asleep.

Later, in their bedroom, the argument continued in fierce whispers.

"And I don't want you to take her to the elves either," said Tauriel. "Who knows what they'll do to her? They might even lock her up."

"Best place for her," retorted her husband. "Keep her out of mischief until she's learned a lesson."

"And then they'll just turn her out on the streets. And THEN what will happen to her?"

"Well, I don't think it's any of our concern. She's survived on her own so far."

"Just listen to yourself, Thorin," she snapped. "When you talk like that, I hardly recognise you."

Thorin looked sullen. "What do you suggest, then?" he asked, not really wanting to hear her answer because he guessed what it would be.

"I want her to stay with us. I want to teach her how to behave. I want to look after the poor little thing."

Thorin sighed and rolled over on his back. "Don't you understand, Tauriel. She's a bad apple. She's lived on the streets all her life. It's too late to help her. And," he added stubbornly, "I don't want her anywhere near my son."

She began to cry softly and Thorin rolled back and drew her into his arms. "My love," and his voice was very gentle, "you can't replace a lost child with one you've picked up from the side of the road." She wept a little more and Thorin kissed her and stroked her long, beautiful hair. He wanted to make love to her and then she would forget this argument and he would get his way in the morning. He kissed her wet lids and murmured into her neck and began to undo her clothing. But she wriggled away from him to the far side of the bed.

"If you want your way, then you'll have to give me mine," she said in dignified tones.

"Blackmail?" he said.

"Yes," she replied.

He groaned and banged his head on the pillow in frustration.

After tossing and turning in the dark for a bit, he finally decided to give his wife what she wanted – at least for the moment. "All right," he said. "She can stay."

But, as they made love, he wondered if he would regret his decision.

.o00o.

PT III

When they got up the next morning, Rose was still asleep, snuggled down on her make-shift bed with only her mop of hair showing above the covers. Tauriel went off to make breakfast and Thorin fetched Arion from his room. When he put him down, he immediately went over to the mattress and tugged at Rose's hair curiously. One eye appeared over the top of the blanket. "Hello, you," she said. "What's your name, then?

The toddler plopped himself down next to her, completely fascinated and said, "Ar'on."

"That's a nice name," she responded. "I'm Rose."

"Wose," he giggled. And she giggled too.

"I'm surprised to find you still here," said Thorin tartly. "Expected you to run away, given half the chance."

"No fear of that," she said cheerfully, pushing back the coverlet. He raised an enquiring eyebrow. "Food's too good." And she got up to sit at the table as Tauriel brought breakfast into the room.

"And what about the elves? Aren't you worried about them?"

"No," she retorted confidently. "Tauriel won't let you hand me over to them."

"What makes you so sure?" he asked, irritated by her equanimity.

"Oh...things." And she gave him a cheeky, sidelong look. "Women always get their way."

She's older than her years, he thought and it troubled him.

Tauriel picked up Arion and balanced him on her knee and tried to feed him, but he kept turning his head away so that he could watch Rose. The girl picked up a spoon and he ate every morsel she offered, staring at her and laughing all the time, especially when she played the "horse goes into the stable" game. "Thank you, Rose," smiled Tauriel. "He's getting to that awkward age with food."

"Did you ever have that awkward age with food?" asked Thorin mockingly, as she fed Arion with one hand and stuffed food into her own mouth with the other.

"Nope," she said. "I learned pretty young always to eat everything in case there was nothing the next day."

Tauriel glared at her husband and then asked Rose gently about her father and how he had died.

"We were crossing a swollen river. We both fell and he was swept away. I can swim. He couldn't." Her voice was toneless and blunt. She didn't seem to care. What a heartless little wretch she is, thought Thorin.

Tauriel reached out and touched her hand. "How have you managed to live? Have you no other relatives? No friends?"

"There's only me."

"Ha!" thought Thorin. There were bound to be other partners-in-crime. And he wondered where they were.

"I stole food from market stalls, found berries in the woods, milked goats and cows before the farmer was up, dug up vegetables at night from the fields, snared rabbits."

"It's all right. You've got us now," said Tauriel softly.

"Worst luck," muttered Thorin and then was glad that no-one had heard him.

Tauriel put Arion down and started to clear up. The two children immediately gravitated towards each other. The little boy brought out his toys to show her and Rose played tirelessly with him. Thorin usually sat with his son every morning before going to the forge and felt a bit rejected. He got down on the floor with them, occasionally trying to attract Arion's attention but with little success. Rose held up Arion's favourite toy, the wooden ball. "I wish I had something like this," she said.

"Made by your friends, the elves," responded Thorin.

She stroked it and moved the balls around, one inside the other. "It's beautiful. Tauriel's beautiful too. If all elves were like her then I wouldn't mind."

"Trying to soften me up, Rose? Well, it won't work." And Thorin glowered at her. As usual, Arion imitated his father's expression and Rose glared sourly at the bad-tempered smith. Tauriel came back into the room at that moment and, seeing the three of them sitting there with their dark hair, blue eyes and black expressions, burst out laughing.

"You should see yourselves," she chuckled, "three grumps, all in a row. Rose could be your daughter, Thorin."

Thorin felt unduly upset by her remark and got to his feet. "If you're suggesting she's my by-blow ..." He flung a look at her and stomped out of the room to his forge.

Rose was a wonderful help and companion that day. Arion was mesmerised by her and wouldn't let her out of his sight. She carried him around on her hip, "as if she were a little mother herself" thought Tauriel, smiling, and took him to look at things in the yard and the garden and for a conversation with the horses. "Arion says your horse is called Thorin, too. Why's that?"

"Because he's black-haired and mean," replied Tauriel, laughing. And Rose laughed too. "But he's also tough and reliable and will never let you down."

"I guessed that," said Rose sadly. "But he just don't like me, you see."

Tauriel gave her a hug. "Give him time," she said.

When Thorin came in for lunch, he found Arion facing Rose across the table and the girl had a line of objects in front of her. "And what are you two doing?" he asked curiously.

"I'm teaching 'im new words," she said.

He laughed curtly. "Well, I'm not too sure I want him learning new words from you."

She ignored him and turned back to her objects. First, she held up a bird's feather. "Fevver," she said.

Arion gave her his full attention and, frowning with concentration, said with confidence: "Fevver."

"Very good," she applauded. "Now this. And she held up a hammer and said " 'Ammer".

" 'Ammer," said Arion triumphantly.

Thorin snorted with laughter and Rose looked hurt. Tauriel entered the room then and gave him a warning look. "She's been marvellous with Arion all morning. He must know twenty new words already." Thorin went to say something scathing and then changed his mind.

That afternoon, while Arion had his nap, Tauriel took out her work basket and began to stitch a pretty piece of blue material. "That's lovely,"said Rose stroking it. "What are you making?"

"A dress for you," smiled Tauriel, looking at the boy's clothes that Rose was wearing. The girl's eyes widened. "I've never 'ad a dress before. Won't I look silly in it?"

"No, you'll look lovely. And I know this because I wore a soldier's outfit for much of my life. I didn't think I could feel comfortable or look good in a dress – but the first time Thorin saw me in a dress, he thought I looked wonderful."

"Do you think Thorin will like me in a dress?" the girl asked wistfully.

"I'm sure he will," said Tauriel with an encouraging smile.

That night, Thorin agreed that Rose could share Arion's room and the two children went to bed with smiles on their faces. In their own room, Tauriel cuddled Thorin: "We've all had a lovely day together and Rose is a lovely child."

Thorin sighed and picked his words carefully. "I know that's the way it seems, my love, but – remember Kagris. We know nothing about her. Please don't give her all your trust yet."

"Be nice to her, Thorin," she said. "I think your good opinion is becoming important to her."

"Your good opinion is important to me, too," he growled in her ear. "And," he said, pulling her into his arms, "I'd like your good opinion of this."

.o00o.

PT IV

The next morning, Rose and Arion did their "lessons" together again and then the toddler sat down to play with his toys. Tauriel smiled at Rose through the kitchen door and asked her for some help. "I'm baking bread," she said, "and the dough needs a lot of kneading." The girl threw herself into the task.

"This is fun. I've never cooked before," she admitted. "Well, not what you would call cooking."

"And what wouldn't you call cooking?" chuckled Tauriel.

"I can roast rabbits on spits over me camp fire and I can cook 'edge'ogs in clay in the embers and I can boil up some vegetables, perhaps; but usually I'd eat 'em raw. That's about it."

"Sounds pretty good to me," the elf laughed. "But, if you want to widen your repertoire, how about we plan to cook something every day together. What do you say?"

The little girl nodded and gave her a hug and Tauriel hugged her back.

When Arion was taking his afternoon nap, Rose checked out the progress on her dress and then drifted around the yard, kicking stones. Finally, she lurked in the door of the forge, half hiding behind a pillar and waiting for Thorin to tell her to clear out. She saw him glance up and notice her but, instead of shouting, he just looked back down at the sword he was hammering. Finally, he said roughly: "Don't just stand there. Come and help!" She slouched over and he told her to top up the trough with water. Then she got to work the bellows and then he allowed her to have a close look at the sword. He showed her how it was made from six separate rods of steel and pointed to the rippling pattern on the blade.

"Cor!" she said in genuine awe.

Encouraged by her interest, he took her over to his workbench and showed her an arm-ring he was etching. She sighed. "I wish I could do sumfink clever like that. I'd love to make sumfink beautiful." She looked away. "That's why I stole that torc, you know. I broke in looking for food but I saw that torc. Couldn't resist it. I wouldn't 'ave sold it, you know. I just wanted to keep it and look at it."

Thorin laughed and put down his tools. "I'll tell you a secret," he said, and she looked at him round-eyed. "The first time I met Tauriel, I wanted to steal a golden dagger I found in her pack. I picked it up and I really wanted it."

"You STOLE it?" She was amazed.

"No, I did not, young lady," and he managed to look righteously indignant. He could see that she thought him an idiot for passing up such a chance and so he added: "Because it's WRONG!" She looked unconvinced. Obviously a topic that needed further discussion, Thorin thought.

Tauriel called her then and she went reluctantly away.

"Thank you for your help," Thorin called after her.

But when she entered the house she found, to her excitement, that Tauriel had finished her dress, together with a matching pair of blue, silk slippers. But, first, the elf washed and cut her hair and dried it in front of the fire. Then she helped her on with the dress and tied a ribbon in her hair and found a pretty little necklace. "Come and look," she said, inviting her into her bedroom to stand in front of a mirror. "Keep it on for supper," said Tauriel. "Let's give Thorin a surprise. I'll put on a nice dress too."

Thorin rose to the occasion. "My, who are these two beautiful young ladies?" he said, as he entered the room that evening. "I don't think I recognise them."

"Yes, you do! Yes, you do!" Rose laughed gleefully, dancing around him. "It's me! It's Rose! And that's Tauriel!"

"Well, I never!" Thorin exclaimed. "I would never have guessed." And, indeed, it was almost impossible to recognise the pretty little girl twirling around the room as the dirty, scruffy thief he had brought home on his horse only a few days previously.

They spent a companionable evening together, laughing, joking and talking. In the end, all the excitement caught up with her and Rose fell fast asleep on the floor in front of the fire. Tauriel managed to work her out of her dress and into her nightgown; then Thorin carried her to the nursery where Arion was already fast asleep and tucked her gently into her truckle bed. He kissed both the children on the forehead and went quietly from the room.

He and Tauriel sat for a long time in front of the fire. "Can't you see now, Thorin, what a beautiful child she is?" He put his arm around her. "Perhaps, Tauriel. Perhaps."

.o00o.

PT V

The following morning, Rose played with Arion again. Tauriel was stitching an "everyday dress" for her in a hardwearing material and had no time for them. So, they went, hand in hand, into the yard looking for something to do. They drifted towards the forge, lured by the sound of busy hammering and Rose lingered hopefully in the doorway. But Thorin sent them away.

"It's too dangerous in here for Arion," he explained. "Come back this afternoon when he's asleep and I'll show you how to set stones into that arm-ring."

The two of them wandered around for a bit longer in a desultory fashion and then Rose asked Tauriel if she could take Arion for a walk down the lane. "Just as far as that oak tree," she said. "I can help him practise his walking."

"Don't go anywhere near the river," Tauriel warned her firmly. "And bring him in if it rains."

"Definitely nowhere near the river," the girl assured her. "But I'll teach him to swim when he gets older."

Tauriel laughed. "I expect Thorin will fight you for that privilege," she said. "He grew up next to a lake and he's a strong swimmer."

"Not like my dad, then," Rose said. And off they set.

"This is walking," said Rose, swinging her arms and marching. Arion tried to do the same. "And these are bunny-hops." Arion found that more difficult. "And this is skipping." And they clasped hands and skipped down the road together.

"And this is your dear, old dad, returned from the dead," said a rough voice, and a villainous-looking man stepped out from behind a tree.

For a moment, Rose stood in the middle of the road, too shocked to move.

"No," snarled the man, "not drownded but washed up alive on the banks of the river and looking for his dear daughter ever since." Rose gaped and said nothing. "Well, ain't you got a kiss for your old dad, then?" But she backed away. "Found yourself a comfortable pad, 'aven't you?" continued the man, nodding towards the forge. "Well, sadly, it's time for you to move on. You know I can't do wivvout yer. We're goin' down to the Grey 'Avens and shippin' out from there." And he led a horse and a donkey out from behind the bushes.

"Where did you get those from?" asked Rose, regaining her powers of speech.

"Where do I normally get things from?" he replied scornfully. "Got people on me tail. That's why we're takin' a ship." And he reached out to her.

"No," said Rose defiantly. "I'm not coming with you. I'm staying here with my friends."

"Friends, is it?" said her father, scornfully. "An elf and a dwarf? You need to stick with yer own kind." And he looked down at Arion. "This their brat, then? Cor blimey! Must be one in a million! Good-lookin' kid, though, I'll give 'im that, for an 'alf-breed." And then his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Get on the donkey, then, Rose," he ordered. "We've gotta get out of here a bit sharpish." But Rose looked stubborn and stood her ground.

"I'm staying here," she said. But her father suddenly bent and swept Arion up in his arms, holding a knife to the boy's throat.

"Well, I do believe you WILL be coming with me," he said with a sneer, "and the brat too."

And Rose did as she was told.

.o00o.

"Have you seen Rose and Arion?" asked Tauriel at the entrance to the forge. "She took him for a walk, but that was several hours ago." Concerned, Thorin dropped his tools and they both started searching for them.

"The river?" he asked with a sudden look of fear.

"No, I last saw them heading off down the lane towards the oak tree and that's in the opposite direction." They hurried down to the oak tree and searched for the children's tracks. They found them but they suddenly disappeared as the tracks of a horse and a donkey made their appearance from behind the bushes.

"I knew it!" roared Thorin. "I knew she wasn't to be trusted! She's obviously met up with a partner and they've taken Arion with them. What else has she stolen, I wonder?"

"But – but why would she take Arion?" said Tauriel in considerable distress.

Thorin had his suspicions but he wasn't going to share them at this moment. "They're heading for the Grey Havens, by the looks of things – perhaps to make their getaway in a ship. With that donkey in tow, we've got a good chance of catching up with them." And they raced back to the stables.

.o00o.

Down at the docks of the Grey Havens, Rose was watching her father sell the horse and donkey to a group of men lounging about at the harbour entrance. He still had hold of Arion and, although she had been on the alert for an opportunity to escape with the toddler, none had presented itself so far and she knew that her father still had the knife hidden under his cloak.

"Nice to get sumfink for nuffink," he grinned as he returned to her, jingling a pouch. "That's the one we want." And he nodded at a fast-going sea trader nearby. He edged her up the gangway onto the ship where busy-looking seamen pointed out the captain to him. He began to negotiate the price of their passage while Rose furtively looked around, assessing her chance of escape from the ship. If all else failed, she would have to wait until they had docked at journey's end. It didn't matter how far they travelled from Ered Luin, she WOULD get Arion back to his mother and father. She wondered what they were thinking and a lump came to her throat because she knew precisely what they must be thinking. And, at that moment, she truly hated her father and wished that he had been drowned.

Negotiations had changed direction and, with a lurch of horror, she registered what was being said.

"So," the captain was saying, "in exchange for the boy, I will give you free passage and one hundred gold coins. He will sell well in the markets of the south." Rose was horrified. The ship was a slaver and its crew were Corsairs. She had heard how they took down their black sails and disguised themselves when they entered the ports of the north to do regular trade but they weren't averse to picking up the odd slave or two if the chance came. She launched herself screaming at her father, but he was ready for her and he kicked her away so that she went sprawling on the deck. The captain laughed: "And another thirty gold coins for the girl."

"Done," said her father. "She's been nuffink but trouble since the day she was born."

Rose looked around desperately for a means of escape; but the seamen were pulling up the gangplank, setting the sails and pushing off from the quay. She thought that terror and panic would overwhelm her. But then her father shoved Arion into her arms and said: "There you go. You wanted 'im, you can 'ave 'im now. Nowhere for you to run for the moment." And he gave a cruel laugh. "She's a good nurse," he said to the captain. And the captain laughed too and went about his business.

.o00o.

At that moment, Thorin and Tauriel were talking to the man who had bought the horse and donkey on the quay.

"Well, I just this minute bought 'em. Seller was a rough-looking man with two kids. He was sailing south. Got on that trader there." And he pointed to the sloop that was setting out for sea. They stared in anguish after the ship. They were too late. And then their anguish turned to horror as the captain arrogantly ran up his Corsair flag.

"Slavers," whispered Tauriel. "She's sold him to slavers." And, in that moment, she thought she would never trust anyone again.

The ship was heading for the harbour mouth. "Come on!" yelled Thorin. "There's one more chance!" And they leapt onto their panting and lathered horses and galloped around the quay. They drew abreast with the ship and now Thorin could see Rose standing by the ship's rail with Arion in her arms. She was staring back at them and he felt such a deep hatred for her that the power of his emotions shook him to his soul. He screamed at the patrol who manned the entrance to the harbour: "Corsairs! Corsairs! Raise the boom!" And the soldiers, immediately responding to his cry, began to raise the great chain that was slung across the harbour mouth.

The chain creaked and groaned and rose steadily from the sea bed, but the pirates laughed and the ship, with its shallow draught, skimmed over the top of the boom. Thorin and Tauriel watched in despair as the trader escaped.

Rose stood by the rail with Arion in her arms. She had seen the way that Thorin had looked at her and the look had been like a blow. For one moment, she had thought that the boom would stop the pirate ship, but they were passing over it and would soon be out on the open sea. And the only things that had brought any meaning to her life would soon be far behind. "Don't be afraid," she said to Arion quietly and he looked up at her trustingly. Then she clutched him tightly and jumped over the rail and into the water.

Her father saw her go and yelled but she was too fast for anyone to stop her. "Do something!" he blustered to the captain. "You're losing two good slaves there!"

"No, not two," said the captain, "just one." It's a tragedy to lose the boy and I shall want my gold back; but I think the father should prove a reasonable substitute for the daughter." And he called to his men to chain Rose's father and take him below.

Rose and Arion plunged down and down into the water. Like babies do, Arion automatically held his breath but Rose thought her lungs would burst before they finally surfaced. Spluttering and coughing, she trod water, then she turned on her back, supporting Arion's head, and made for the quay. She was a good swimmer and the quay seemed quite close, but the water was very cold and she only had the strength of a child. Her movements became slower and slower and, although her love for Arion kept her going for a surprising distance, she finally began to sink beneath the waves.

.o00o.

Thorin and Tauriel had seen her jump and, suddenly, the pieces of the jigsaw fell into place. Not just Arion but Rose, too, had been kidnapped, and now she was trying to escape with their son. Thorin pulled off his boots and his heavy outer clothing and plunged into the dock. His powerful strokes brought him to their side just as they were disappearing from view and he grasped her mop of hair and pulled her to the surface. She still clutched Arion in an iron grip. He swam with them to a flight of stone steps leading down from the quay where Tauriel and some of the boom men waited to drag them ashore. "You can let go of him now, Rose," said Thorin quietly. "His mother's here." And Tauriel took Arion in her arms, crying with relief.

Thorin struggled to his feet and lifted Rose onto his shoulder. He patted her on the back until she had coughed up the salty water and then he climbed tiredly up the steps. "You're a brave girl," he said. She wrapped her thin, little arms about his strong neck and wept into his shoulder. For the very first time in her life, she felt safe.

.o00o.

They had managed to rehire their pretty house overlooking the estuary. They tucked the children into bed and their clothes were drying in front of the fire. Rose clung onto Thorin's hand when he tried to leave the bedroom. "Don't send me away. Please, don't send me away," she whispered. And he sat by her bed and stroked her hair.

"Now, why would I send you away?" he asked.

"Because you don't like me," she blubbed. "And because I stole your torc and kicked you in the leg and cut your arm. And me dad stole Arion and tried to sell 'im. And because you always shout at me."

"Hmmm, that's a load of good reasons," said Thorin seriously, stroking his beard. And she stared at him anxiously. "But, if I send you away, then Arion would miss you and Tauriel would miss you and, most of all, I would miss you." Then he smiled and kissed her goodnight and Rose gave a deep, satisfied sigh and fell immediately asleep.

Tauriel had been listening at the door and, when he emerged, she hugged him and led him to their bedroom. "Shall I get you a hot drink and tuck you in and kiss you goodnight?" she asked with a grin.

"Well, I wouldn't mind the goodnight kiss," he smiled as he pulled her down between the sheets. "And I did have a list of other suggestions for ways in which you could make my miserable life happy."

She lay on top of his broad chest and gazed down into his striking blue eyes. "Tell me," she said, pulling his plaits teasingly.

"I forget," he said in his deep, dark voice. "Perhaps you can help me remember." And she helped him remember for the rest of the night.

.o00o.


	6. Chapter 6 Thorin Goes to Town

The Oakenshield family pack up and move to the Grey Havens for their own safety. Good move? Read on and find out.

.o00o.

THORIN GOES TO TOWN

PT I

Tauriel was asleep. The children were asleep. Thorin was awake.

The sun was just rising, and, yes, it was lovely to be in bed with his wife, but he could have done without Arion, Rose and the dog. He glanced at the three dark heads that separated him from Tauriel. He had drawn the short straw and had the dog slobbering and snoring next to him on the pillow. The dog was called Dog and had shaggy, black fur. "I'm feeling outnumbered," Tauriel had said, tossing back her golden hair and laughing at her dark-haired family lined up before her. Thorin had tried to persuade Rose and Arion that tadpoles made good pets but they had grown up and hopped away. And so, a dog it was.

This was becoming a bad habit, he thought. In the middle of the night, first Arion, then Rose and then Dog would finish up in their big bed. The bed seemed to grow smaller by the day. He was lying uncomfortably on the edge of the mattress and so he finally sighed and, giving up the unequal battle, slid from the bed and padded to the kitchen to make breakfast. This needed a family discussion.

There came a sharp rap at the door and it was Gandalf. The wizard looked with an amused expression at Thorin's bleary-eyed appearance and, brushing past him, said: "Not interrupting anything, am I?"

"If only you were," muttered Thorin.

Gandalf's arrival awoke the rest of the family and they all came tumbling into the room. He visited occasionally on his trips down from the North to the Grey Havens and Arion greeted him with glee. But Rose and the dog were new additions to the family. Rose stared at him curiously.

"That's a big, pointy hat," she said.

"Don't be rude, Rose," said Thorin.

But Gandalf smiled. "Yes, it's a wizard's hat. Do you like it?"

"Not if it's got mice or pigeons or creepy-crawlies hidden underneath it," said Rose with caution.

"No, none of that," laughed Gandalf.

Rose looked vaguely disappointed. "Well, do you do magic tricks, then?"

"He's not that sort of wizard, Rose," smiled Tauriel, "but he IS famous for his fireworks. Perhaps you'll get to see them somewhen." And she sent the children off to get dressed.

Gandalf sat down for a serious talk with the dwarf and the elf.

"Your troop is doing wonders up at the outpost," he said to Tauriel, "but things are getting worse. The orcs are beginning to mass in larger numbers on the borders. I think it's time that you considered moving either up to the dwarven settlement or down to the Grey Havens."

They had guessed this was coming but they still felt despondent. "It will have to be the Grey Havens," said Thorin. I need to get commissions from the elves there and it's nearer to the outpost when Tauriel has to visit."

"Well, I think that all of you should come to the Grey Havens and try to get a few things organised in the next couple of days. We're holding an important meeting about the current situation and we could do with input from both of you." The old wizard began to gather his things together. "Sorry, can't stay. Not even for breakfast."

"Things must be serious then," said Thorin.

Two days later, they locked up their home and the family set out on their horses with a packhorse and Dog trotting behind. Arion sat on Tauriel's saddle-bow and Rose sat in front of Thorin. She idolised him and he thought the world of her – although newcomers would not have realised this because they still chipped away at each other. But, as far as Rose was concerned, Thorin had saved her life; and, as far as Thorin was concerned, Rose had saved his son's life. She was as a daughter to him and she followed him around like a little shadow.

The packhorse carried all Thorin's tools, gold and valuables. It was too dangerous to leave them even in his hiding-place and, as his wealth had grown, it seemed a good time to store things in the town vaults. "I don't want to risk a thief taking anything this time," he said, with a pertinent look at Rose.

"Ain't you never gonna let me forget that?" she said indignantly.

"No," laughed Thorin. "Not until Tauriel stops accusing me of stealing her golden dagger."

It had become a family joke and the children giggled.

The horses ambled along and Thorin found himself involved in a conversation with Rose. She was always blunt. "You're not backward in coming forward," he had said to her once.

She knew Dis and had heard about the deaths of his nephews and of his brother, Frerin. "So, ain't you got no other family 'cept Dis, then?" she asked.

"Well, I've got Tauriel and Arion," he repled mildly. "And I've got you and Dog too, I suppose," he said with a sigh as if they were a great burden to him.

She giggled and elbowed him in the ribs. "Yep, 'fraid you're stuck with us. But what about your mum and dad?"

"My father, Thrain, was held in the dungeons of the Necromancer not so long ago, just before I went on my adventure with Bilbo. Gandalf tracked him down but he died. My mother died when I was very young and I hardly remember her."

"I hardly remember my mum, either," offered Rose in sympathy. "I remember she 'ad black 'air like me and I remember sleeping with her sometimes and 'er name was Meg – but that's all. Dad said she fell ill and died. But," she said with cheerful unconcern, "what you've never 'ad, you never miss."

"You heartless little wretch," he said with feeling.

But, she laughed and said: "Well, I've got Tauriel now and she's the best mum in the world."

"You might be right there," grinned Thorin, but he wondered if she were as unconcerned about her dead mother as she sounded.

They reached the Grey Havens and the house they usually rented. "We really ought to think about buying our own," said Tauriel, "if we decide to stay."

They all knew the house but Thorin showed the children up to their bedrooms, wishing to make a point. "That one's yours," he said to Arion. "And that one's yours," he said to Rose. "And Dog can sleep with either of you. And this one," he said, "belongs to me and Tauriel." He glared at them sternly. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," said Rose and Arion meekly.

"But," said Rose, "can we sleep with you when we feel ill?"

Thorin hesitated. "Probably," he said cautiously.

"And," said Arion who was two now and could talk quite well, "if we see a monster, can we sleep with you?"

"Errr," said Thorin.

"And if we get frightened of the dark, can we sleep with you?" grinned Rose.

"And can Dog sleep with you if he doesn't understand the rules?" asked Arion.

"And if Dog sleeps with you, is it all right for us to join him?" said Rose.

"And can we sleep...?" they began in chorus.

"No! No! No!" yelled Thorin. "Those are your bedrooms and this is ours. Understood?"

They nodded but Thorin wondered if they had their fingers crossed behind their backs.

Dis arrived later to help them out until they got settled. It was market day and she and Rose went off to stock up while Arion had a nap. Thorin took Tauriel in his arms and gave a long sigh. "It seems weeks since I kissed you or even touched you," he murmured. "There always seems to be a long line of children and animals standing in the way or sleeping between us."

"Well, I don't see any children at the moment," she whispered breathlessly, "and the dog's in the garden."

He picked her up and carried her to their bedroom, supporting her in one strong arm whilst impatiently trying to undo her buttons with his free hand. Their clothing fell in an untidy pile on the floor and they fell laughing, giggling and panting upon the bed. She felt so good, thought Thorin, as he snuggled into her. Why had this beautiful elf chosen him above all others on Middle-earth? He felt such intense joy when he was with her that he must have done something right in life to deserve such bliss.

They got dressed quickly afterwards, in case Arion woke up or Dis and Rose came home. Life – and love-making – seemed such a scramble these days. They had only just got back down the stairs when there was a thundering at the door. On the door-step stood one of the town guards, firmly holding a glowering Rose by the scruff of the neck. "This one belong to you, sir?" he asked.

"I'm afraid so," said Thorin, with a sigh. "What's she done?"

"Stolen this, sir, from a market stall." And he held up a toy wooden sword in a beautiful leather sheath.

"How much?" asked Thorin and then he gave the soldier double to recompense the stall holder for his trouble.

"Inside," he said grimly to Rose as the soldier let her go. "Where's Dis?"

"Still shopping," answered Rose sullenly. "She don't know I was caught."

"I'm listening," continued Thorin, folding his arms.

"It's a present for Arion. I just wanted to get him something nice."

"Well, you could have asked us for money," exclaimed Tauriel as she joined in the conversation.

"But it wouldn't have been from me, then, but from you," she retorted.

"But, if you steal something, it's still not from you," snapped Thorin in exasperation. "It becomes a free donation from the stall-holder."

" 'S'pose so," said Rose still glowering at the floor and not looking very convinced.

After they had sent her off outside to wash and feed Dog, Tauriel said worriedly: "I'm not quite sure if bringing Rose to town was the best idea. She's still got so much to learn."

"Or UN-learn," grimaced Thorin.

.o00o.

PT II

Next morning, as the early sun filtered though the window shutters and the gulls wheeled, screaming, overhead, Thorin leaned over his wife and kissed her tenderly with a happy sigh. "That was a wonderful night," he said. His dark hair fell in a great mass about his face and shoulders.

"Yes, wonderful," murmured Tauriel, thinking that he looked like a pirate. She reached up to stroke his silky beard and gently tug his long plaits. "No children; no dog. What DID you say to them?"

"Oh, not much," her husband grinned. "Just threatened to skin them alive. And the suggestion that they might not get cake today might have had something to do with it too."

She lifted her face for another kiss and then laughed.

"Now what?" said Thorin.

"I was just thinking about something that Lostwithiel said last week about the stamina of dwarves."

Thorin nuzzled her throat and said huskily: "Would you like another demonstration?"

"Well, I would definitely like it," she responded, kissing his ear, "but I think we'd better tidy up."

Thorin groaned and reached down for their nightshirts which lay discarded on the floor. Then he went to the door and unlocked it. "Good inventions, keys," he said. Then he returned to their bed and they lay together watching the sun rise higher over the beautiful estuary.

There was a quiet tap on the door. "Yes," he sighed. The door opened cautiously and three little faces peeked around its edge. "Come in, then," he offered.

There was a communal whoop and Arion, Rose and Dog hurtled across the room and leapt into the bed, trampling over Thorin's chest and face in their rush to snuggle down between the long-suffering dwarf and elf. "The start of another day," said Thorin to his wife.

.o00o.

Later that morning, as Rose and Arion helped Dis make the promised cake, Thorin and Tauriel set out to investigate a building that might provide the smith with a suitable forge. The site was a mile away, high up on the hill, on the edge of the town. There was the wreck of a house, burned down in a fire, and a large, overgrown garden. But there was also a solid, stone outbuilding which Thorin thought he could convert for his work purposes. "And, who knows," he added, "if we decide to stay, perhaps we could buy and rebuild the house."

"Well, I suppose this will have to do," sighed Tauriel, thinking that she would miss the sound of his hammering next door. "But, it's not exactly convenient, is it? It's a bit out of the way."

"Convenient for what?" murmured Thorin, drawing her into the barn and shutting the door behind her. "It's definitely not convenient for dogs or childen."

.o00o.

That afternoon, they talked about the council of men and elves that was being called in the town that evening. Gandalf had asked for them both to be there but Tauriel preferred not to go. She hadn't forgotten her experiences at Thranduil's feast three years previously.

"There's still a lot of animosity towards us," she said, "especially from the elves."

"But they're always pleasant to me when they consult me over commissions," Thorin tried to reassure her.

Tauriel sighed. "That's because they want something from you. And I think they hate me more because they feel I have betrayed them in some way."

"But, what about Elrond and the elves at Rivendell? They were wonderful to us when you had Arion."

"Again, that was different," she said. "Elrond is half-elven so they have a better understanding of our situation." She had been happy at the forge and was already beginning to regret their move to the town.

"And what about your elven troop up at the outpost? We both get on well with them," Thorin persisted.

"That's because they know us so well and we've been through a lot together." She would never tell him how Lostwithiel had made his way to her bed because he had despised her so much.

"But, unless we mix with the people of this town, we will never give them the chance to know us. There will always be some who hate us but we need to give those who are willing the opportunity to find out that we are really just like them."

But Tauriel was adamant. She discussed her views of the dangerous situation in Ered Luin and how her men could contribute but would not go with him.

And so, Thorin set out on his own. At first, he wondered if Tauriel had been right. The Grey Havens was an elven town and so the council chamber was mainly packed with elves plus some of the prominent men in the town. There were no other dwarves. He was glowering alone in a corner when Gandalf arrived and immediately made his way to Thorin. "No Tauriel?" he asked.

"No," said Thorin shortly. Gandalf understood and didn't need long explanations.

"They will accept you in the end," he said. "The elves here have always lived on the perimeter of Middle-earth. Their experiences, even over thousands of years, have not been as intense as your experiences in only two hundred. You have been at the centre of things for most of your life and you understand things that they don't. In the end, they will realise your worth and take you into this community."

The council was convened, the lamps were lit and Gandalf was invited to the high table; but Thorin sat in the shadows at the far end of the room. As the meeting progressed, and they discussed how to protect the rural areas of Ered Luin from orc attacks, he felt more and more frustrated at their inability to comprehend the situation and began to understand what Gandalf had been saying about their inexperience. Some of their suggestions were totally lacking in foresight.

Finally, Gandalf held up his hand and, when there was silence, he turned towards the dwarf and said: "Has the great Thorin Oakenshield nothing to say on the matter?"

They all turned towards him and he could see that, indeed, many believed that he, a dwarf, had nothing worthwhile to say on the matter.

"You are fools," he rumbled, and the candlelight flickered across the powerful planes of his features, "if you think that persuading all the farmers to pack up and move to the town or that sending out your forces from this town to wander around in the fond hope of encountering an orc raiding party will serve any purpose."

"Why are we fools?" snapped one of them.

"Because if the farmers cannot farm, we shall all starve and if your own soldiers aren't here and the town is attacked, then the Grey Havens will fall." And he flung them a contemptuous look.

They all felt his scorn and were angry. A clamour arose and ran around the room.

"He knows nothing!" shouted one important trader.

"Oh, I think he does," smiled Gandalf. "Survivor of the wrath of Smaug, legendary warrior from the dwarf and goblin wars, leader of dwarves, elves and men at the Battle of the Five Armies, married to a former captain of Thranduil's guard who is now captain of our most important outpost, and, of course, weapons' trainer and advisor. Oh, definitely, I think he does!"

The elves and men fell silent but still looked askance at him. "Well, what would you do then?" he was finally asked.

"I would leave your soldiers here in their barracks, ready for action at a moment's notice; I would fortify the dwarven settlement and a dozen of the largest farms to create refuges; I would make sure that every single cottage, farm and settlement was well stocked with food and with weapons, especially arrows, so that they could all withstand a short siege if attacked. I would ensure they had an early warning system, especially at night, in the form of night watches but, if the men weren't available, at least in the shape of dogs and even geese. And, they should all be able to communicate their danger to each other, perhaps through beacons."

The council members sat there blinking for a moment, trying to think of ways to pick holes in his ideas. Finally, one said: "And who's going to organise all this fortification or even teach farmhands how to shoot bows?"

"The men of my wife's outpost could train ten men each and each of those could train ten. Skills would spread quickly," replied Thorin.

"And if they're under siege and have been taken unawares," said another, "how will they light the beacons? The orcs will soon put those out anyway."

"I said PERHAPS with beacons." Thorin turned to Gandalf and grinned. "Or perhaps our good wizard can supply every homestead with a handful of his famous fireworks which could be launched from within the house – up the chimney, perhaps?"

And, although everyone present could see the sense of this idea, the thought of Gandalf's fireworks shooting up chimneys amused them so much that they all began to laugh. "Well said, indeed, dwarf," many of them began to admit. And soon the room was full of enthusiastic discussions centring upon Thorin's ideas.

When the evening finished, Thorin felt a warmth from the townspeople he had never experienced before. They clapped his back in farewell and a number of them handed out invitations to both himself and his family. "You did well," smiled Gandalf. "Tauriel should be pleased."

But, when he got home, he was unsure as to whether Tauriel was pleased or not. In fact, she wasn't certain how she felt, either. They had been invited to a family event in the woods near the estuary and she and Thorin had also been invited to a gathering at the home of one of the elves. "I'm sure the children will enjoy the picnic and the chance to meet other children," she said, "but I'm not so sure I can cope with another elven gathering." And she rolled her eyes up at the memory of Thranduil's.

Before they could discuss it further, there was a knock at the door. When they opened it, they found a strapping but rather blowsy woman standing there. She might have been good-looking once; her hair was dark and curling upon her shoulders and her clothes were rather bright and made of coarse material.

" 'Allo," she said. "Can I come in? I'm Rose's mum."

.o00o.

PT III

"I'm Rose's mum," said the woman again. Thorin and Tauriel just stood there. Suddenly, Rose came up curiously behind them, wondering who the woman was. The woman saw her, pushed past dwarf and elf and clasped Rose to her bosom. "Oh, what it is," she said dramatically, "for a mother to clasp a daughter in her ams once more!" Rose stood there as stiff as a poker but when the woman said the word "mother", she pushed away from her.

"Mother?" she said in a shocked voice.

"Ah, listen to 'er! She recognises me! After all these years!" And the woman forcibly clasped Rose in her arms once more. But Rose wriggled and struggled and freed herself again, standing there panting and looking with horrified eyes at this strange woman who had suddenly appeared in her life.

"Such a pretty little babby as she was and 'er now grown up even more pretty. I remember the day that 'er dad ran off with 'er, leaving me to search and search...But a muvver will go to the ends of the earth on 'er knees to find 'er child." And she produced a large handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. "And she still wears the necklace!" she cried. And from her pocket she withdrew a tiny locket that was the matching half of the one that Rose had always worn about her neck.

"You're not – you're NOT my mother!" screamed Rose and ran up the stairs and slammed the door of her bedroom.

Thorin and Tauriel pulled themselves together, invited her in and had the full story from her. Her name was Meg and she and Rose's father had never got on and, when she threatened to leave him "because of his thievin' ways", he had stolen the toddler away and she had not seen Rose from that day. It was a tragic tale she told of how she had travelled up and down Middle-earth, mixing with vagabonds and knaves, in her attempts to trace Rose and her father. At last, she had reached Ered Luin and had heard of the smith and his adopted daughter, Rose. Could they imagine her distress when she had found the forge locked and barred? But now, at last, she had found her!

"And I wish I could pay you for everyfink you've done for 'er but I've 'ardly a penny to me name. So, I 'ope you will take a muvver's thanks instead," she went on.

"Of course," said Tauriel. "We want nothing. But what will you do with her now?"

"Aye, me," said Meg, placing her hand on her bosom and casting her eyes up to heaven, "we shall travel the open road together, on highways and byways, getting 'onest work where we can, just glad to 'ave each other at last."

"But you can't do that to her," cried Thorin. "She's only eight, a little girl. She's settled here. Why don't you just leave her with us – we'd look after her!" Rose was going to be taken away from him and he was horrified.

The woman's eyes flashed. "So," she said, "you'd separate a daughter from 'er muvver – and after all I've done to find 'er. Well, you shan't 'ave her. I'd rather die!" And she burst into tears. Tauriel put her arms around her and told her that this was not their intention, that they loved Rose and were willing to do anything to help.

A sly look came into Meg's face. "Now, it's not that I want to take my Rose away from people 'oo she's learned to love and 'oo love 'er. But a muvver's love 'olds fast too. 'Ow about I stay on 'ere as 'er nurse?" And she glanced around the large room. "Looks like you could find a little bit o' space for me to fit in."

Thorin snorted: "Well, I think she's too big for a nurse..."

"But," Tauriel interrupted, giving him a look, "we could probably use a housekeeper."

"'Ousekeeper, eh?" said Meg. "Wiv a big bunch o' keys? I've allus fancied a big bunch o' keys."

"Yes," said Tauriel quickly. "I'm sure we could arrange a big bunch of keys."

Rose had crept back downstairs and was now standing in the corner of the room. "You said that you'd never send me away!" she cried at Thorin.

"Well, I'm not," he said. "You'll still be staying here. And so will your mother."

.o00o.

That night, Meg took over Rose's bedroom and Rose moved in with Arion and Dog.

Thorin lay in bed with Tauriel and said: "What is it about us that attracts waifs and strays? We know nothing about her. She could murder us in our sleep."

"But what choice do we have?" asked Tauriel.

"No choice," said Thorin.

.o00o.

The next day was the family picnic down amongst the trees near the estuary. There was a mixture of elf lords and rich men from the town with their wives and children. The elves were slow to reproduce and so Rose and Arion found themselves playing mostly with the offspring of men. Tauriel had reluctantly agreed to come but was pleasantly surprised at how welcome they made her and Thorin and how interested everyone was in her outpost, in Thorin's work and in his plans to defend the area.

It was also the first time that most people had seen the children and they were the objects of great admiration too which pleased her mother's heart. "What very, very beautiful children!" they exclaimed. And, certainly, this was not a lie. At two, Arion had grown up fast, his elven blood making him seem older than his years. He was an intelligent and articulate little boy and there was something so fascinating about him that the assembled company found it difficult to take their eyes off him. He looked like his father – and yet he didn't. Like Thorin, he was very handsome with a mass of black hair that was already beginning to flow down his back. His eyes were the same startling blue and he looked set fair to grow up strong and well-muscled, broad of shoulder and strong of limb. And yet, at some angles, he looked like his mother and, although he was still young, he moved with that special grace that only belonged to the elves; and, already, he was very tall.

The guests were not exactly sure who Rose was. She did not appear to have elven blood in her nor did she appear to be a dwarf. But she also looked like Thorin with her mass of dark, curling hair and blue eyes. She wore a pretty dress and was excessively pretty herself. Her eyes danced and sparkled and she exuded a confidence well beyond her years. The other children were fascinated by her and followed her around, wanting her to play with them and lead them in all their games.

Meg had insisted on coming too. She wore a gaudy red and blue dress with a plunging neckline and the guests also felt confused about her identity. She dressed like a servant and yet there was a haughty tilt to her head that spoke of something more.

Soon the gossip started.

The men and the elf lords found themselves admiring and envying Thorin. They admired his masculine arrogance and his sharp mind that was designed for war-like times such as they were experiencing now. They envied him for having won as his bride a beautiful elf and nudged each other and made jokes about what it was that had appealed to Tauriel. And yet, unlike the lascivious innuendoes of three years previously, this time they could see what it was about him that must have attracted her.

The women and elven ladies also found themselves admiring Thorin. They all agreed that he was very handsome and that there was something very dashing about the way he tossed back his mane of black hair. And he was so strong! The elf-lords were slender and lithe. The rich burghers of the town had a tendency to well-fed portliness. But here, in contrast, was someone who had such a powerful build that the ladies giggled together as they imagined him working in his forge. And what work he produced! Jewellery of such astonishing beauty that they all desired to possess it. Work of such fine detail that they looked at his large hands and they looked at the lovely Tauriel and imagined the delicacy of his touch. They found it difficult not to ogle him.

And who was Rose? And who was this woman, Meg? They had their suspicions and these suspicions were confirmed by Rose herself. One of the women was sitting and watching the children play when she overheard a little girl ask Rose who her mother was. And she rather reluctantly pointed to Meg. And then she was asked who her father was and she pointed to Thorin. When the woman spread this delicious morsel of information, the other ladies shivered with delight. And so he was living with both his wife and his leman; and he had children by both of them. He was just so – so – virile, they whispered, and they nearly swooned.

The men and elf lords were equally amazed at these two lovers that Thorin seemed to have acquired and the two beautiful children he had produced with them. "Virile" was also a word that sprang to their lips too and they nudged each other and whistled through their teeth.

For various reasons, not comprehended by either the dwarf or his wife, Thorin had risen considerably in everyone's opinion.

.o00o.

PT IV

Over the next few days, Meg got her big bunch of keys, Dis went home and Thorin managed to construct a furnace at his "forge". The family seemed ready for their new life at the Grey Havens.

"Come and try this on," said Tauriel as she held out some new clothes she had made for Thorin. His wardrobe at the old forge had consisted of shirts and breeches. In their secluded spot, nothing else was needed except when he went up to the outpost and he got his fighting gear out. Thorin had felt uncomfortable at the council a few nights earlier wearing his old velvet clothes that had come with him all the way back from the Lonely Mountain. They had been invited to a sophisticated evening with an elf-lord and other important people of the town that night and Thorin felt it was time for something new. Tauriel had set to work and had made a lovely outfit, the highlight of which was a short-sleeved, dark blue top, made of heavy silk and embroidered in silver.

"Your mithril belt will look well with this," she commented. "And perhaps you could wear your silver arm-rings." She gave him an amused smile. "I think that will give you a suitably barbaric look. That's how a lot of them imagine you, after all."

"And perhaps I should also go with my silver dagger down the side of my boot," said Thorin with a raised eyebrow.

"Perfect," said Rose. "That's where I always carried mine. Good place."

She sat with Arion and Dog on the bed and all three nodded in agreement over these final last touches.

"And you'll be good for your mother while we're out this evening, won't you?" said Tauriel. "Arion will already be in bed but you're to do exactly what she says and when she says that you're to go to bed too, you'll go." A sullen look came over Rose's face but she nodded her agreement. Thorin decided that they would come home early, just in case.

The children ate an evening meal that Meg had made for them (not nearly as appetising as that dished up by Dis, Thorin thought), Tauriel put Arion to bed and then they got ready. When they were dressed, they went downstairs to the locked cupboard where they kept some of their more valuable items. Meg and Rose stood in a corner of the room as Thorin donned his belt, arm-rings and dagger and Tauriel chose a silver necklace, beautifully crafted by Thorin, to go with her pale, sea-green gown. She twirled on the spot in front of Rose and Thorin held out his arms for their inspection. "Well?" he said.

Rose's eyes glowed. "Lovely," she breathed. Meg tried to look more closely at the contents of the cupboard before Thorin locked the door.

The mansion of the elf-lord was very striking. It seemed almost organic as it rose above a hill overlooking the harbour, its stone and metal twisting and turning in graceful arches and traceries. As a fine backdrop, it seemed to suit Tauriel and reflected her delicate beauty but it made Thorin look almost brutal, a ruthless and savage warlord, as he mounted the steps with Tauriel on his arm. Heads turned as they entered. Rumors about his home life had been spreading and everyone wanted to see this dwarf smith who had once been a king but who now lived with two women and had two children by them.

Tauriel's expectation of their reaction was not far off the mark. Both Thorin's body and his demeanour exuded power and the ladies talked about him behind their hands. Few dwarves were seen in the Grey Havens and few dwarves looked like Thorin, especially dressed as he was tonight. The hair of the beardless elves was straight, smooth and shining; the rich, middle-aged men of the town were going bald; but Thorin's hair curled in a wild mass down past his shoulders and his beard and plaits, as Tauriel often thought, gave him the look of a sea raider, dark and dangerous. His build was strong and muscular, and the silken material of his clothing moulded itself to his well-knit frame. The silver arm-rings were tight about his biceps, underlining just how muscular he was. The colour of the silk deepened the extraordinary blue of his eyes which gazed out from under dark lashes, staring unwaveringly about the room. The mithril belt and silver dagger that Rose had insisted he wear down his boot added that final touch of barbaric spendour. He drew the mesmerised attention of the entire gathering.

There was no rejection of this odd couple tonight. Tauriel looked glorious in her beautiful gown and she and her husband made a very special pair. All the guests manoeuvred their way politely but firmly across the room in the hope that the two would engage in conversation with them. And their conversation fascinated the jaded elves and easily bored townsfolk. Lostwithiel was there and he grinned to see the impact that his two favourite people were having on the room.

After a group of elves had given a recital of pretty elven songs, Lostwithiel picked up a harp and, approaching Thorin, asked him to treat the assembled company to a dwarven song. Thorin was reluctant. The evening was going so well that he didn't want to do anything that would damage it. Dwarven songs were just so different from those of the elves. They were mournful and sad and deep-throated. They sang of things that were very dear to dwarves and suddenly he was afraid of mockery. But Tauriel took his arm and nodded at him to go ahead.

And so he took the harp and stood before them. It is true that the lips of many quivered slightly to see such a beautiful and finely-made instrument being held in the great hands of a dwarf. A few almost expected to hear a cacophonous sound emerge. But Thorin suddenly stroked his fingers over the strings with such delicacy and skill that all who heard felt they were listening to the wind among the pines and the room fell silent. Then Thorin started to sing in his deep, thrilling baritone. He sang of his home, the Lonely Mountain, and he sang of the dwarven love of beautiful things made by hand and by cunning and by magic:

On silver necklaces they strung

The flowering stars, on crowns they hung

The dragon-fire, in twisted wire

They meshed the light of moon and sun.

Both elves and men stood entranced as the fierce and jealous love, the desire of the hearts of dwarves, moved through them. Thorin finished with a final, shivering sweep across the strings and the room remained folded in silence. Then he put the harp down and it seemed to break the spell. The guests erupted into loud applause and even more of them jostled to speak with him. But many of the women, the wives and daughters of the fat burghers in particular, stood transfixed, unable to do anything but gawp at this handsome smith and feeling totally devastated by his rough charm.

.o00o.

It was late. Thorin and Tauriel had still not come home and Rose lay in bed and listened to the creaking on the landing. Her mother was supposed to be in bed too, so what was it that she could hear? She slipped out of bed and quietly padded down the stairs. The light of a candle shone from the salon and she crept to the door. Inside the room, Meg was carefully unlocking the cupboard that contained the valuables with a key from the bunch she now carried at her waist. Like a fury, Rose charged into the room and her startled mother dropped the key. Rose pounced on it.

"I KNEW you were up to no good!" she hissed. "You're not here for me, are you? You're just here to see what you can steal from Thorin and Tauriel!"

Meg pulled herself together quickly. "Now, dearie, as if I would do that and after all they've done for me. No, I was just checkin' that the cupboard was locked. Tossin' and turnin' I was in bed, wonderin' whether he had turned the key or not before 'e went out." And she looked shocked at Rose's accusations.

"I don't believe you," snapped Rose, "and I'm keeping this key just to prove that I don't. It would make my day if I woke up tomorrow and found you gone!"

"Ah, the cruelty of children," sighed Meg. "But your muvver forgives you. As if I'd leave you here all on your own." And she gave Rose a sad smile and went off to her bed. "If I go, you go," she said as she ascended the staircase.

Rose was nearly in tears. She would do anything to remove her mother from the home of Thorin and Tauriel. She had grown up with villains from the underworld of Middle-earth and she recognised one when she saw one. And now this woman – her own mother – was operating in her home. She must think what she could do. She needed a plan that would result in her own removal from the house and then her mother would have to leave too. She would NOT let her take advantage of the two people she loved most in the world.

.o00o.

Thorin was working in his new forge. He felt elated over the success of the previous night. Quite a few of the women had said they wanted to commission work from him and promised that they would visit his forge soon to discuss designs. So, he wasn't surprised to find three of them standing on his doorstep later that morning. Two of them were wives of rich and prominent men in the town and one was the daughter of a wealthy trader and ship-owner. They giggled when he invited them in and leaned over him too closely when he started drawing designs for their commissions. Thorin began to feel uncomfortable and so was relieved when they said he had given them enough ideas to mull over and made ready to depart with his sketches. But, just as they were on the doorstep, the trader's daughter suddenly reached into her pocket.

"Oh, Thorin, I nearly forgot!" And she brought out a pretty gold necklace with a broken chain. He examined it, said it was an easy repair and agreed to deliver it that afternoon. The three women grinned at each other and set off home. As they left, a scrawny and rascally-looking man stepped out from behind a tree and hurried back into the town.

Thorin didn't know it yet, but it was going to be a very busy day.

Later that afternoon, there was some heavy drinking going on in The Mithril Crown. A group of men who had been at the elf-lord's house the previous evening looked dourly at each other across their cups of wine.

"My wife won't stop talking about him," said one.

"No, neither will mine," said another. "I think he's going to cause us trouble."

The big, bluff ship-owner grunted: "My daughter just sits at the window, sighing. He's got two lovers already but, given a chance, I reckon half the women of this town would move in with him. He's got a whole army of them out there all ready to descend on him!" And he glowered and cracked his knuckles.

The scrawny lurker outside the forge suddenly slid into a seat next to them. The men knew him. He had his uses.

"Now here's me thinking, after what I seen this morning," he said slyly, "that you men don't deserve to hold onto your women, what wiv you not keeping a close enough eye on them, an' all. If I were you, Ned," he said to the ship-owner, "I'd be running off home right now ter see what that girl of yours is up to. And," he said, grinning at the other two men, "I'd also keep a close eye on those wives of yourn if they were mine."

Ned pushed his chair back and hurried off while the other two men bent their heads closer to their informer.

.o00o.

Thorin had finished the repair on the necklace and was at that precise moment knocking on the ship-owner's door. Elspeth, the daughter, let him in and showed him into a quiet room at the back of the house. Thorin began to feel uncomfortable again when she closed the door behind him. He produced the necklace but she turned around and coyly asked him to put it on for her. The clasp was small and difficult and Thorin struggled with it, his fingers brushing her bare neck. She shivered and, as he finished, she grabbed his hand and pressed it against her breast. "Oh, Thorin," she gasped, "I've thought of nothing else but you since last night." And she turned and kissed him passionately on the mouth.

Thorin didn't know what to do. In the ways of love, he had a certain innocence. This girl was his customer and all he wanted to do was extricate himself from her arms as politely and firmly as possible. But she was a big, strong lass and she soon had him pressed up against the wall, her lips creating a vacuum on his and her hands scrabbling with determination at his clothes. He felt quite shocked at the way one of her hands soon had his shirt undone whilst the other was making pretty successful headway as far as the unbuckling of his belt and his breeches was concerned. At the same time, she was wriggling her upper body in such a way that her shoulder-skimming dress began to fall from them and soon she was ripping off his shirt and was pressing herself provocatively against him. "Take me! Take me now!" she moaned, whilst all Thorin could do was flatten himself against the wall, his arms splayed apart, his eyes wide and hunted, as he desperately tried to pull his mouth away from the suction of her lips upon his own.

The door to the room was suddenly flung wide with a violent bang. "Get out of my house, you scum," roared Ned, entering the room at this inopportune moment. Thorin opened his mouth to protest his innocence but seeing that Ned was in no mood for a sensible discussion, clutched his clothes about him and made a swift exit, heading for the security of his own home.

.o00o.

Also at this precise moment, Rose was putting her plan for her own eviction into action and was mustering her troops on the edge of the market square. The group of twenty children listened to their leader, wide-eyed and expectant.

"So, 'ere's the game we're gonna play. When I say the word, we charge through the market as fast as we can, grabbing what we can. An' when we get to the other side, we turn around and charge back again. The person who 'as grabbed the most things is the winner!"

It sounded like a good game and, upon her shout, they belted hell for leather across the square.

.o00o.

Thorin had only just got home when a knock came at the door and a soldier was standing on the step with a wriggling Rose in his hand. "Come in," Thorin sighed.

"Well, this time it's a bit worse, sir. She led a big pack of kids through the market and back again at a run. They knocked people over, grabbed things off the stalls and had some of the stalls over too. There's quite a bit of damage. And the other kids come from decent homes. Their parents are in a fair uproar over it all. Acting like they want your daughter's scalp." He gave Thorin a sympathetic look. "Got young'uns meself. Know what they can be like. But you'd better see me tomorrow to sort it out."

Thorin shut the door and turned to Rose. "Well?" he said.

"Well, I just felt like doin' it," said Rose, kicking the leg of a chair. "This is a stupid place full of stupid children. And I hate it." She stared defiantly at him.

Thorin had had enough. "All right, I think it's bed-time. No supper for you." He pointed to the door and she banged out of the room.

There was another knock and Thorin rolled up his eyes. A scrawny, disreputable man stood there. "I've got information to sell," he said. "And I think you'll be very interested in what I have to say."

Thorin invited him in, offered him a cup of wine and sat across the table from him.

"Tell me."

"It's about that Meg woman, Rose's mother." Thorin leaned forward with interest.

"Well, 'er name's not Meg and she ain't 'er mother."

Thorin leaned back and smiled. "Tell me more," he said and passed over a gold coin.

"I knew the real Meg and 'er 'usband. Moved in the same circles, so to speak. So did Evie, 'er what's callin' 'erself Meg. I can remember Rose when she was a baby but then 'er mum died. Evie was nursin' 'er."

"Ah," said Thorin. "So that's how she got the silver necklace."

"Well, yes," said the informer, "if Meg 'ad anyfink valooble on 'er when she died, Evie would've 'ad it off her afore she was cold."

Thorin handed over another gold coin and thanked him.

"Just one more thing," said the man. "I've got a friend oo's got somefink else to tell yer, if yer willin' to pay. 'E could meet yer round the back of The Mithril Crown at 10 o'clock tonight, if yer like."

Thorin liked. And the man slunk away.

.o00o.

It was 10 o'clock at the back of The Mithril Crown. It was very dark. Thorin could see no-one there. Suddenly his informer moved out of the shadows.

"Ah!" said Thorin, taking a step forward. But he got no further as a cosh struck the back of his head. He grunted and fell to his knees. A big boot kicked him in the face. He fell to the ground. Another big boot kicked him in the ribs. All the breath left his body.

"And that's just a little warning," whispered a voice in his ear. "Just leave our women alone. Don't come anywhere near them. ANYWHERE!"

And as he heard the sound of footsteps walk away, Thorin also heard the chink of coins as money exchanged hands.

.o00o.

"Ow!" said Thorin. "That hurt!"

"Serves you right," said Tauriel, dabbing ferociously with a damp cloth at his bruised and bloodied face. He had a black eye, a cut on his forehead and a split lip. "Just how stupid can you get, going out late at night to meet someone you don't know up a dark alley?" And she burst into tears.

He kissed her as best he could with his split lip and hugged her as well as may be against his bruised ribs. "It's been a long day, Tauriel," he sighed. "Take me to bed and kiss it better. I've got to get up early in the morning to sort a few things out."

The next day, a few things were sorted. Thorin awoke at dawn to hear a curious bumping on the stairs. He pulled on some clothes and emerged from his room to find Rose hauling a well-filled pack down the steps. "And where do you think you're going?" he asked sternly.

"Cor!" said Rose when she turned around and saw his face. "I bet that hurts!"

"Don't sidetrack, Rose," he responded. "Where are you going?"

"I'm leavin', of course, before you throw me out. And I'll take me mum with me. I'm obviously causin' too much trouble. This just hasn't worked."

Thorin folded his arms across his chest. "Nobility of purpose doesn't suit you, Rose," he said.

"What you goin' on about?" said Rose, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Just go and fetch Meg," he said, "and then I'll tell you."

Meg emerged from her room.

"You've got ten minutes to pack and go – Evie," he said.

She opened her mouth and then closed it again.

"And I'll have that silver locket before you go, too," he added.

She handed over the locket and was packed and gone in five minutes without another word. Rose just stood there looking confused.

Thorin sat her on his lap and said gently, "Your mother really is dead, Rose, and that woman was just pretending to be her. I know what you were trying to do to resolve the situation but – I wish you wouldn't try so hard. Just understand that you're my daughter and that you're here to stay, no matter what."

"No matter what," echoed Tauriel as she entered the room. And she gave them both a hug. "Right, now, everybody, let's go."

"Go where?" asked Rose.

"Back to the forge at the crossroads, of course," said Tauriel.

Rose's eyes lit up. "But isn't it dangerous there?"

"Not as dangerous as this town," said Thorin. And everyone had to agree.

.o00o.


	7. Chapter 7 Thorin and the Spots

This episode happens immediately after Thorin Goes to Town when Rose is about nine years old and was written for another writer on The Hobbit board, saraleee, who suggested the idea to me. She had wondered what kind of patient Thorin would make if he ever became ill. Guess, LOL !

.o00o.

THORIN AND THE SPOTS

Pt I

The Oakenshield family had just got back from their failed attempt to move to the Grey Havens. Tauriel was up at the outpost and Thorin was sleeping on his own. It was only for one night but he hated it. In his sleep, he reached out for her across the bed, only to find her gone. Her absence disturbed his dreams. He was lost in a huge mansion and he was calling for her, opening door after door, only to find every room empty. He began to panic: what would he do if he never found her?

An orc stood on the corner of a long corridor. "She went that way," he growled, hooking his thumb down into the dark recesses. Thorin started to run but the corridor seemed to lengthen and he wondered if he would ever reach the end. "Tauriel!" he called frantically.

A Corsair pirate stuck his head out from a room and pointed to the door opposite. "She's in there," he said. Thorin flung open the door and rushed inside. There was no floor only a dark hole and Thorin found himself falling. He landed with a crash on a huge pile of gold and Smaug, woken from his sleep, breathed fire upon him. Thorin staggered away but his armour was red hot. I'm roasting alive, he thought. And he struggled to free himself from the breast plate whilst the sweat poured down his face and his chest.

"Lie down," said Rose.

"But I'm hot, Rose, and I need Tauriel," he told her.

"Tauriel's coming," said Rose. "Just lie down and close your eyes."

And so he did as he was told and when he opened his eyes again, he was back in his room and Tauriel was there and she was holding a cool, wet cloth against his forehead.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

"Very hot," he said, moving restlessly on his pillow.

"You've got a fever," she said. "Rose looked after you until I got here. She heard you yelling in your sleep and found you in a bit of a state."

Thorin felt confused. "Smaug got me," he said, "and I couldn't find you."

"Bad dreams," said Tauriel gently, and she placed another cold compress upon his forehead.

"Is 'e awake?" said Rose from the doorway. Thorin glanced across to the doorway and burst out laughing.

"What's wrong with your face?" he asked.

"Well, if you think I look daft, you should see yourself," she said indignantly.

Thorin looked startled and Tauriel smiled. "Yes, you do look pretty dreadful, Thorin," she said. And she held up a small hand mirror.

Thorin stared at his reflection. Not only was he flushed but he was covered in large, red spots.

"You've got a lot more than me," said Rose. "And I didn't get no fever neither."

"What is it?" asked Thorin, looking quite anxious.

"Haven't you seen it before? It's called The Spot. Rose probably picked it up from her friends in the Grey Havens," smiled Tauriel. "It's usually only children who get it; but if you catch it when you're older, it can be a lot worse. People have been known to die from it."

Thorin suddenly looked even more worried. "Won't you get it too?" he asked.

"No," she said, "elves can't catch it – we tend not to pick up diseases. It's an illness of dwarves and men."

"What about Arion?" was his next concern.

"I don't know," she said, "so I'm keeping him away from both of you for the moment. The infectious stage lasts ten days."

"Ten days!" Thorin exploded. "I can't be ill for ten days!"

"Yes, you can, Thorin," she said sternly, "and you're going to spend it in bed so that you don't have a relapse...And you too, miss," she added, turning to Rose who was still standing in the doorway, grinning. "Get back to your room."

Rose's face fell and she reluctantly dragged back to her bed.

Thorin continued to feel hot and feverish for the rest of the day. Arion went down to the river and collected some willow bark for his mother who made it into a hot drink for Thorin, mixed with honey. He slept for a little after this and felt a bit better. But then he woke up and began to fidget with boredom. Tauriel found herself running backwards and forwards fetching him food (which he didn't touch), then more drinks, then another pillow. Then he called her and just wanted her to sit by his bed and talk but Rose and Arion also needed her and, when she left after only five minutes, he felt very hard done by. So, then he tried to go to sleep again but he only tossed and turned in a hot, semi-doze and called out to her again when he had another bad dream.

"I thought you had packed your bags and left me," he said to her, looking very pathetic.

"Well, that's just what I will do, Thorin, if you carry on like this," she said a bit sharply.

And then he looked so hurt that she gave him a kiss and, although she was feeling exhausted, she made him another willow and honey drink and sat by his bed holding his hand until he nodded off to sleep again.

When it was late evening, Tauriel came into the bedroom and removed some bedding from the cupboard. "What are you doing?" asked Thorin.

"I'm making up beds on the floor of the hall, in front of the fire, for me and Arion," she said.

He could understand why Arion needed to sleep apart from him and Rose, "But I don't see why you can't still sleep with me," he said grumpily.

Tauriel came over and lifted up his bed sheet. "Have you seen yourself, Thorin?" she said.

And he pulled up his nightshirt and peered down at himself. Much to his horror, every square inch of his body seemed covered in spots.

"As the fever lessens, so your spots will get itchier," she said, "and I really don't think you'll want to share a bed with me."

But Thorin continued to look sullen. "You know I don't like sleeping on my own," he said. "I can put up with a bit of itching."

So Tauriel sighed and made up a bed just for Arion who was quite excited about sleeping with Dog in front of the fire.

Meanwhile, Rose had been as quiet as a mouse. She was very bored too but she heard Thorin's constant calling and guessed that Tauriel must be feeling very tired. She hoped that she would make a speedy recovery from what seemed like a mild attack so that she could help the elf. And THEN she would read him the riot act. He was being really selfish.

Tauriel finally finished all her chores and came to bed. "What on earth have you been doing?" Thorin grumbled. "I've been waiting and waiting for you. I can't possibly get off to sleep until you've come to bed."

Tauriel bit her tongue and got in beside him. She tried not to touch him but Thorin edged across to her and said in a little boy voice, "I need a cuddle, Tauriel."

And so, she took him tentatively in her arms and tried not to warm him too much with her body. But, having slept for much of the day, Thorin wasn't feeling in the least bit tired and felt in need of some distraction. He nuzzled her neck and whispered, "Take your nightgown off, Tauriel. A cuddle feels so much better that way."

His wife sighed. "Honestly, Thorin," she said, "I don't think it's a good idea. Shall I go and get you some camomile tea? That will make you sleepy." But he didn't want a hot drink and he didn't want to go to sleep.

"I need to be awake, my love," he said huskily, "for what I have in mind."

Tauriel decided that he would have to learn the hard way and so took off her nightgown and climbed back into bed with him. With a satisfied grin, he pulled her to him and began to kiss her passionately. But, after only five minutes, he pushed off the bed covers. "I'm hot," he complained. Although she tried to edge away from him, he wasn't having it and pulled her back against his body.

It won't be long now, thought Tauriel. And, within another five minutes, he had begun to scratch. When the scratching just increased, she finally got out of bed and, with a look of determination, she said: "That's it, Thorin. You're just being silly. I shall sleep in the other room." And she ignored his sullen looks, made up a bed for herself and returned with a lotion which she rubbed on his spots. "That should help," she said. "And now I don't want to hear from you until tomorrow morning." And she stalked out of the room.

And so Thorin lay there and lay there, counting off the minutes. In the end, he fell into a hot and disturbed and itchy sleep. The nightmares came back as bad as ever and somehow it was all Tauriel's fault.

.o00o.

Pt II

The next day followed the same pattern. The only difference was, Thorin got grumpier and Tauriel got more tired. Arion was doing his best to help his mother and Rose was doing her best by bothering Tauriel as little as possible.

That night, Thorin insisted that Tauriel sleep with him again. He smothered himself with the soothing lotion and then drawing her into his rather slippery arms, tried to make love to her. This did not meet with success and he became very upset. "But you're ILL, Thorin," sighed Tauriel. "I don't know what you expected."

But Thorin expected to be normal and, when he wasn't, then his temper began to rise.

"I suppose you're repulsed by me, covered in all these spots," he snapped, as he rolled away from her. "I don't know how I can hope to do anything in bed when I just know that you're revolted. If you tried harder, then perhaps, I would get somewhere."

"So, it's my fault," she said curtly.

"Yes," he said, and turned his back on her.

Tiredly, Tauriel got out of bed and plodded off to the other room. The next morning, she overslept and was only woken by Thorin yelling for attention. She dragged herself into the bedroom and confronted him.

Thorin had had a very restless night. He knew he was behaving badly but refused to admit it. Instead, he had tossed and turned, blaming his wife for all his woes. Then finally he had a whole string of nightmares in which a giant spot on his nose spread over his entire body whilst a beautiful Lostwithiel stood at the foot of his bed laughing and suggesting that perhaps his wife would rather seek out his bed instead. When the elf lord walked off hand in hand with Tauriel into the sunset whilst Thorin cried for her to come back, he finally woke up even more convinced that Tauriel wasn't looking after him well enough.

"Yes?" said Tauriel.

"I'm hungry and thirsty," Thorin glowered, "and I want my breakfast."

"Well," she said, "I think I'll just have my own breakfast first and then I'll think about you," and she turned on her heel and swept off to the kitchen.

"Just you come back this minute!" he yelled after her. "I'm ill and you're supposed to be looking after me!"

And suddenly, Rose was standing on the threshold with her arms crossed and looking absolutely furious.

"And 'oo do you think you're shoutin' at, Thorin?" she snapped. "That's your wife, Tauriel, and she's run 'erself ragged whilst you've be'aved like the biggest baby ever!"

He was about to shout back at her when she raised an admonitory finger. "Now, just you stop it, Thorin, and just you 'ave a think about your be'aviour." And he did have a think and looked up at her guiltily through long, dark lashes.

"We've got to get through the next eight or nine days all in one piece and wivvout killin' Tauriel and we need to 'ave a talk about it," she said. And Thorin nodded.

And so, when Tauriel came back into the room later, she found Thorin looking repentant and Rose sitting next to him on the bed.

"Sorry, Tauriel," he said.

When any of them said sorry, Tauriel usually gave them a kiss and a hug and forgave them. But, this time, she just stood there looking worn out.

"You see," said Rose, giving Thorin a poke, "she's at the end of 'er tether. So what're we goin' to do to 'elp 'er?"

"I don't know," said Thorin.

"Well," said Rose, "our biggest problem is, we're both so bored. So, what shall we do?"

"I don't know," said Thorin.

"Fat lot of use you are," said Rose scornfully.

"Well, I'm ill," said the dwarf petulantly, "and I can't think."

Rose sighed and turned to Tauriel. "It's very lonely being shut up in our rooms on our own, so why don't we move my bed into here during the day and we can keep each other company?"

It was such an excellent idea that they set about moving Rose's bed straight away. Thorin insisted on getting up and helping, but, by the time the bed had been moved, he was pale and trembling and had to be helped back into his own.

"You see," said Tauriel sternly, "this disease is more debilitating than you think."

"Yes," agreed Thorin, looking sorry for himself. "I'm very ill, aren't I?"

And he looked so pathetic that Tauriel laughed and gave him a kiss and said, "Yes, you're very ill, my love. I shall now go and get you both a nice cup of camomile tea."

Rose had positioned her bed so that she was looking directly at Thorin, "so that I can keep my eye on 'im," she said.

He glowered at her. "I'm not quite sure why I thought this was such a good idea," he said.

Tauriel brought them both their cup of tea and, for the rest of the day, found life a lot easier with them both in the same room and with Rose there ready to curb Thorin's demands.

For a while, they both stared at each other in a grumpy silence. "So, what shall we talk about?" said Thorin finally.

"I don't know," said Rose.

Tauriel came in at that moment. "What about you telling each other stories?" she suggested. "Everyone likes a story, particularly if they're stuck in bed."

So, first of all they told each other stories of Middle-earth.

"I'll start," said Rose. "Do you know the one about Beren and Luthien?"

"No," said Thorin.

"You don't?" said Rose in surprise. "It's the most important of all the elven stories. I'm surprised that Tauriel never told you that one."

"Well," grunted Thorin, "we had more interesting things to do with our time than tell each other stories."

"But this one's all about how a mortal man married an immortal elf. It's sort of connected to your own situation." And Thorin suddenly sat up and paid attention.

"So how do you know this story about elves, then?" he asked.

"Well, I've moved around a lot and mixed with all sorts," she said. "There was this young girl we travelled with once and she knew 'undreds of stories about love. She used to tell them around the camp fire at night and I always remembered this one."

And then she told him how the beautiful elf, Luthien, the Morning Star of her people, fell in love with Beren, a mortal man. It was a long and complicated story, full of angry fathers and magic stones and vampires and werewolves. But the love of Luthien for Beren and the sacrifices she made and the dangers she went through in order to save her beloved from the dungeons of Sauron and her choice of a mortal life so that she would die with him held Thorin enrapt all morning.

It was very sad and, as she finished, he fell back exhausted on his pillow. He had not wanted the food that Tauriel had brought them for lunch but he closed his eyes now and said to Rose: "Thank you. That was a lovely story. I think I'll go to sleep for a bit now."

And then Rose realised how tired she was feeling too and she shut her eyes and fell asleep as well. Tauriel poked her head around the door a little later and smiled to see them both gently snoring together.

.o00o.

Pt III

The next day, Rose demanded that Thorin tell her a story about love too.

"I don't know any," he said. "I only know dwarven stories and they're all about battles and war."

"Well, what about a true love story," suggested Rose, her eyes alight. "Why don't you tell me how you met Tauriel and fell in love with her?"

Thorin had already told the children bits about his adventures with Bilbo – the child friendly stuff, like how they had been almost eaten by trolls or killed by giant spiders or had escaped from their prison in Mirkwood by floating downriver in barrels. But he hadn't told them anything about the "personal" element.

"Where did you first meet Tauriel?" persisted Rose. "Was it when you were captured in Mirkwood?"

"No," he said. "I actually met her some time before that, in this very forge."

Rose's eyes widened. "You met 'er in this forge? But 'ow did that 'appen?"

"Well," continued Thorin, "she was on a mission to the Grey Havens from Thranduil and her horse cast a shoe." He smiled to himself as he remembered.

"And the minute you laid eyes on 'er, she was so beautiful that you fell in love with 'er," exclaimed Rose excitedly. "And the minute she laid eyes on you, she fell in love with you because you were so 'andsome."

"Not exactly," said Thorin dryly. "We disliked each other on sight." And when he saw Rose's jaw drop he said: "You're forgetting the bad feelings that exist between dwarves and elves. But," he continued, "she was forced to stay the night – she stole my bed – and we did have an enjoyable meal together."

"And THEN you fell in love," said Rose, determined to have her happy ending and to have it quickly.

"Nope," said Thorin. "I did find her very beautiful but she accused me of stealing a golden dagger and she chained me up in the forge and left me. If I could have got my hands on her..." And he grinned as he thought about the mixed feelings he had had for his wife at the time.

"She chained you up!" exclaimed Rose in disbelief and she wondered where the Tauriel/Thorin romance was going.

"And, as you know, she eventually captured me in Mirkwood and locked me up in Thranduil's dungeons. She wasn't very nice to me there either," he grumbled.

"So, 'ow on earth did you eventually fall in love?"

"Well, I think our interest in each other was growing and she WAS very beautiful, of course." And he paused to remember some particular moments.

"And...?" Rose prodded.

"And she followed me down to Lake Town and then...errr...we made our feelings known to each other."

Rose gave him an old-fashioned look. She wasn't stupid. "So, then you exchanged rings?"

"No, I went off to confront the dragon." And Thorin looked a bit uncomfortable.

"And then the dragon was killed and you were made King under the Mountain and she came to the dwarven halls and THEN you exchanged rings." Rose was really getting excited.

"Err...no," Thorin muttered. "I gave up my kingship and sent her back to Mirkwood before coming back to the forge."

"You did WHAT!?" Rose exclaimed in disbelief. Her eyes rolled. "Typical!" she snorted. "So, 'ow on earth DID you get together?"

"Umm..well...she came after me and we...err...we made up." He was looking quite guilty.

"And THEN did you exchange rings?" She didn't sound too hopeful.

"Yes," he grinned. And Rose cheered.

"But why," she asked curiously, "if you then came back to the forge, was Arion born at Rivendell?"

"It's a long story," said Thorin. He looked very ashamed of himself and started playing with the sheet. "I don't come out of it very well and I'd rather not talk about it." He was feeling weak and a bit feverish and couldn't stop a tear from sliding down his cheek. Rose saw how upset he was and so changed the subject.

"Well," she said in a jolly voice, "I'm feeling pretty tired and sleepy after all that."

"Me, too," said Thorin, surreptitiously wiping away the tear with the back of his hand. And so they ate a bit of food that Tauriel had brought in for them and followed it up with a nap.

.o00o.

The next day, it was Rose's turn. "Tell me a story to make me laugh," said Thorin. "I feel like a laugh."

Rose thought for a bit. "Well, I could tell you about the time that me dad took me thievin' when I was about five."

"And you think that will make me laugh?" said Thorin, unconvinced.

"It makes me laugh when I remember it," said Rose.

And so Thorin settled back to listen to her tale.

"I was only a little kid," she said. "Really skinny, too."

"Yes, you were still pretty scrawny even three years later when I brought you home to the forge."

"Well, me dad liked me that way because it was really useful when he broke into houses. 'E kept me 'alf-starved but he didn't know that I was always eatin' be'ind 'is back. I used to steal food from stalls in the market, y'know." And she looked very pleased with herself.

But Thorin was beginning to feel a bit upset. "I thought this was supposed to be funny," he said.

"'Ang on a bit," she said. "It will be." But, as she remembered how hungry she had been in those days, she reached for the plate that Tauriel had left by her side and comforted herself with a mouthful of bread and butter.

"So, me dad 'ad an eye on this big 'ouse and 'ad noticed that there was a small rear window that the owner always left open. He knew that I was small enough to wriggle through and so, one night, in the early hours, we both crept into the back garden and me dad lifted me up to the window. I was 'alf-way through when I got stuck. Me dad 'adn't realised just 'ow much stolen cake I'd bin eatin' for weeks." And she started giggling to herself.

"So, there was me dad, pushin'and pushin' when, suddenly, a big guard dog sniffed us out and came runnin' and barkin' at 'im and grabbed 'old of 'is trouser leg. So then me dad started to pull instead of push but I didn't budge. I could see the staircase from where I was stuck and suddenly the owner comes running down the stairs in 'is nightshirt wavin' a rusty old sword around. And 'e sees me pokin' through the window and drops 'is sword and starts pullin' and me dad's pullin' from the other side and the dog is growlin'and tearing at 'is trousers and then, suddenly, through the window I pop on top of the owner of the house. I've knocked 'im out but, by this time, me dad's run away wiv the dog snappin' at 'is 'eels. And I manage to unlock the big front door and go runnin' after 'im."

And Rose threw herself back on her pillow and roared with laughter. But Thorin wasn't laughing.

"So, what happened when you got home?" he asked.

"Oh," she shrugged, "'e gave me a beltin' for not grabbin' a few valuables before I left the house."

Thorin got out of bed and came over to Rose and put his arms around her. Rose buried her face in his comforting shoulder and cried as she remembered her life before she came to the forge. Thorin felt the tears run down his face too. Rose looked up and brushed her tears away. "I've messed up your shirt," she said, patting the wet patch ineffectually. "Now, just you get back in bed, Thorin Oakenshield, before Tauriel comes in and you get into trouble." And she gave a big sniff.

Thorin gave her one more hug and then got back under his blankets. And, when Tauriel came in ten minutes later, they were both fast asleep.

.o00o.

Pt IV

After a pretty itchy night, Thorin woke up the next morning to find many of his spots weeping and others crusting over. When Rose came in, hers were beginning to scab too. "Don't you dare!" she said to the dwarf when she saw his hand reach up to scratch his face. "If you knock those scabs off, you'll get scars and you won't look so 'andsome any more. You wouldn't want to put Tauriel off, would you?"

Her words reminded him so much of the dream when Tauriel had gone off with Lostwithiel that he immediately brought his hand down from his face and trapped it under the sheet.

"There's a good boy," grinned Rose.

Tauriel came in with a bigger breakfast than usual on trays for them and they found that their appetites were returning. They cleaned their plates and Tauriel looked pleased when she returned. "You're both picking up a bit, I see," she smiled.

Then they both settled back on their pillows for the next round of story-telling.

"I've told you a bit about my dad," said Rose. "Now tell me a bit about yours. Thrain, wasn't it?"

"Well," said Thorin, "he only had one eye, for a start."

"Cor!" said Rose. This seemed to her to be an exciting and exotic feature. "'Ow did that 'appen?"

"He lost it during the dwarf and goblin wars, at the Battle of Azanulbizar." He paused for a moment. "My brother, Frerin, died in that battle too."

"Tell me about your brother," she said.

"He was very good-looking and, unlike me, blond-haired. I thought the world of him until we had a bit of a spat over the same dwarf woman, Kagris." He sighed. "I really regret that now. We went into battle with this hanging over us – and then he was killed. I find it difficult to forgive myself sometimes. She really wasn't worth it."

Rose made soothing noises. "I bet your dad thought you were the bees' knees," she said in an effort to turn his thoughts elsewhere.

"I'm afraid, Rose," he said with a wry smile, "that if you're trying to cheer me up by leading my memories down more pleasant paths, then you're not succeeding. Frerin was my father's favourite son; and, after Frerin, he loved Dis. I was bottom of the pack when he was dishing out his affection."

Rose blinked. It seemed impossible to her that anyone would not love Thorin. "Why do you think that was, then?" she asked.

"Well, I think I reminded him of my mother. She died when we were all young and my father missed her terribly. Every time he looked at me, I think it caused him pain." He shrugged. "I realised pretty early on that I was my father's least favourite child and I learned to accept it."

"And I thought," said Rose, "that I was the only one 'oo had a father who didn't like me."

Thorin sent her a sad smile: "It happens in all families, rich or poor, high or low. There's nothing you can do about it so you just have to live with it. At least I had Dis and she loved me. You had no-one."

"Now, don't you go and make me feel sorry for meself or you'll start me blubbing again," she said. "Isn't there anything good you can remember about you and your dad?"

"Well, he taught me to use an axe and a sword and he did a pretty good job. Things also got a bit better after Frerin was killed because I was then the only son he had. He couldn't be picky any more." Thorin sighed again. "But I sometimes felt that he wished it had been me and not Frerin who had died that day."

They sat in silence for a while, thinking about their fathers. Then Rose looked up and said: "Well, you've certainly made up for things, Thorin. You're the best dad ever." And then she looked a bit embarrassed and cleared her throat and began talking about Arion.

Thorin smiled to himself. How lucky they all were that Rose had come into their lives.

.o00o.

The next day was cold but very sunny. "I think," said Tauriel, "that if you wrap up really, really warmly, then you could sit outside for an hour in the sun."

They were both very excited at the suggestion and Tauriel laughed at the child-like pleasure that Thorin was taking in such a simple act. Rose dashed off to her bedroom to get dressed whilst Tauriel helped Thorin. He pulled on his breeches and Tauriel knelt and put on his boots for him. He was just picking up his shirt when Rose came dancing in.

"Oops, sorry!" she laughed.

"No problem," he smiled and pulled on his shirt.

When Tauriel had equipped them with their thickest coats, they made their way outside, being careful to steer clear of Arion who waved and grinned at them from the far side of the dining table. They sat on a bench with their backs to the wall and their faces lifted to the sun. "Aaahh," they both sighed as one.

They sat in silence for a while, just enjoying their freedom. Rose linked her arm through Thorin's and leaned her head upon his shoulder.

"Can I ask you something?" she said. And Thorin nodded.

"Well, if your father didn't like you very much, then why haven't you got any marks on your back?"

The moment has come at last, thought Thorin. And he wondered if he could handle it. He thought back to the day when he had first brought Rose home. She was a thief and he had meant to hand her over to the elven guard in the Grey Havens but he and Tauriel had kept her instead.

The day after her arrival, he had come in from the forge to find Tauriel bathing her in front of the fire. She was sitting with her back towards him, bending over and playing with a sponge. He had stopped in his tracks because her back was a mass of scars. He was about to blurt out something when Tauriel had shot him a meaningful look and he had shut his mouth, picked up what he had come for and had then made his exit.

That same night in bed, Tauriel lay in his arms and said: "She has been miserably maltreated, Thorin. But, don't say anything. She'll talk to us about it when the time comes. I think we need to be careful what we say and it's really important that we don't show any disgust."

That had been a year ago – and now the time had come.

"Well, Rose," he said gently, "my father didn't believe it was right to beat children. He would give me a clout with his hand sometimes, if I was being really annoying, but he never beat me."

"And did Tauriel's father ever beat her?"

"No," he said quietly.

"And you don't beat Arion either, do you?" she said, as if this were a sudden revelation. "And you don't even beat me, even though I must really make you mad sometimes."

"I would never beat Arion and, I promise, I will never beat you." He said this firmly and she knew he was telling her the truth.

She sat there silently digesting this information for a while. Then she said: "I've tried to look at my back, but it's a bit difficult to see what's going on behind you. Do the marks look ugly?"

Thorin hesitated and didn't know what to say. In the end, the words came: "Those scars are part of you now, Rose. The only ugly thing about them is the man who put them there."

She was silent for a bit longer. "I thought that everyone was beaten by their dad. And because I thought that everyone was beaten, it made it easier to bear."

Thorin could understand that. It was the smallest of mercies.

She looked up at him and her eyes were full of tears. "But now I know it's not so, I feel really upset. And a tear spilled over and ran down her cheek."

He lifted her onto his lap and held her tightly. "It's all right," he said. "It's all right."

They sat there quietly in the sun for some time and then he carried her inside to her bedroom and helped her into her nightgown. "Don't look," she whispered. "Don't look."

"And why shouldn't I look at my beautiful daughter?" he said, kissing her gently on the cheek. Then he tucked her into bed and she fell asleep.

He went back to his own room and Tauriel was waiting for him. "What's happened?" she asked as she helped him into bed. "You're looking very upset."

"I am upset," he said and she lay down on the bed with him. Then he told her about the conversation he had had with Rose.

Tauriel kissed him and murmured: "You said all the right things, my love."

"Perhaps," he replied. "But that doesn't stop the pain I'm feeling at the moment."

He suddenly realised how exhausted he was feeling and, as Tauriel covered him in gentle kisses, he soon fell asleep in her arms.

.o00o.

"Woo-hooo!" shouted Rose as she burst into Thorin's bedroom. "Day ten!"

"All right," said Tauriel as she stuck her head around the door, "You can come and have breakfast with Arion. Welcome back to the land of the living!" And everyone cheered.

Arion studied his father and his sister as they sat up to the table. Most of the scabs had dropped off, leaving pale pink scars. "They'll soon fade," said Tauriel.

"That's good," laughed Rose. "Thorin was worried that you wouldn't fancy him any more." And she sat there giggling.

That night, Tauriel finally agreed to let Arion and Rose share a bedroom again and then she promised Thorin that she would return to the marital bed. Thorin let out a long sigh as she climbed in beside him. He nuzzled her neck and murmured, "Well, do you still fancy me, even with all my pink scars?"

"Hmmm, that's a difficult question," she said. "I think a bit of kissing might help me make up my mind."

And so he kissed her throat and worked his way up to her ear and then across to her lips. "Have you decided yet?" he whispered huskily.

"Well, what do you think, you stupid dwarf?" she said. And then she folded him tightly in her arms.

.o00o.


	8. Chapter 8 Thorin and the Raid

Thorin has recovered from his spotty illness and now he feels he must set about fortifying his home against possible orc attacks. Lostwithiel has offered to help. Will their cooperation be successful or will something be revealed that should have remained hidden? And will the fortification be effective?

.o00o.

THORIN AND THE RAID

PT I

Thorin stood on the roof of his hall, tossing off some of the thatch with a pitchfork. As part of the plan to fortify and improve the defences of farmhouses and cottages in the area against orc attacks, he had started to replace the dangerous and flammable thatch with stone tiles. It was a slow and time consuming business but he had made good progress and, when it was finished, he would no longer have to worry that a flaming arrow would burn down his home.

There were extensive views from his position and he could see up and down the four ways that met at his forge on the crossroads. In the distance, trundling along from the Grey Havens, he could see a large wagon and guessed it was Lostwithiel. He threw aside his pitchfork and, climbing down a ladder, stood waiting for the elf lord to arrive.

When the wagon finally entered the yard, Thorin greeted Lostwithiel cheerfully. The elf leaped to the ground and clasped Thorin by the arm. They were elf and dwarf and yet they had fought side by side against the orcs and felt a special bond. Moreover, Lostwithiel was his wife's right hand man up at the nearby outpost where a troop of elves was stationed whose job it was to keep an eye on any movements in the mountains and the surrounding countryside.

Thorin clapped the elf lord's shoulder and wondered at the change that had come over him in the past year. When he had first met him in the Grey Havens where Lostwithiel was a visiting member of Thranduil's court, he had been slim and pale and elegant with wafting movements that seemed to make him float around the room; he had had a languid manner and a languid voice. Now his hair was bleached and his skin bronzed by the sun. He strode rather than drifted and, after all the hours of physical and military exercise, he had built up a fine physique. He was now someone you would be glad to have on your side, thought Thorin.

"Where's Tauriel?" the elf asked, looking around.

"Dropping off the children with Dis for a week," Thorin replied. "It's somewhere safe so that we can work on the house without them getting in the way."

Lostwithiel looked disappointed. "Don't worry," grinned Thorin, knowing the elf's attachment to his captain, "she'll be back tomorrow. You'll be staying tonight, won't you, so you'll see her then."

Together they unloaded the wagon which contained useful items intended to help isolated properties withstand an orc attack. There were wooden shutters with arrow slits built into them, great bundles of arrows, a stack of spears with long handles, a shipment of stone tiles and supplies of foodstuffs that stored well. "And last but not least...the fireworks!" exclaimed Lostwithiel. With a flourish, he produced a bundle of Gandalf's fireworks. They were large and splendid-looking and were intended to be used as warning signals should the forge be attacked. "And keep those naughty children well away from them," said the elf.

They spent the evening putting up the shutters and then sat down to a meal and a cup of wine. Thorin drank carefully these days. Too much wine had got him into a number of tricky situations in the past. But Lostwithiel enjoyed the local product and drank for both of them. They talked about his life up at the outpost and how much it had changed him – "For the better, I hope," he grinned – and how Tauriel ran a pretty tight ship and how he tried to imitate her when he was left in charge.

"The men think the world of her," said the elf, "and all I want is to have half as much respect from them as they give to her." Tauriel only spent one day a week up at the tumbledown farmhouse these days, but she really kept them on their toes.

Thorin nodded. He knew what a wonderful job his wife had done and was very proud of her. "I don't know how she manages to look after you lot and the children and me and still keep her temper," he laughed. And then he added in a quiet voice: "I don't deserve her."

There was a lengthy pause while Lostwithiel sipped another mouthful of wine. He carefully considered Thorin's words with the laboured concentration of a man who'd had one too many. Like many people teetering on the edge of inebriation, he suddenly felt the need to confess. "You know, Thorin, I didn't think you deserved her either when you both turned up that night at Thranduil's feast three years ago."

Thorin grinned. "Well, I can imagine that most elves would think that a dwarf was an odd choice for a beautiful elf maiden. I felt pretty uncomfortable that night. I remember that you were the only elf lord there who was pleasant to me."

Lostwithiel looked down into his cup. "I'm sorry, Thorin, but I was being pleasant for my own purposes – and I regret it and would like to apologise."

Thorin laid a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently. "Confession time, Lostwithiel? Too much wine, I think. Time to go to bed."

"No, no," protested Lostwithiel, looking the dwarf earnestly and slightly drunkenly in the eye. "I want to say it. Your betrothal upset me and I told you a load of half-truths about Tauriel and Thranduil. I wanted to cause damage. And I did, because you broke the betrothal. I feel very, very badly about that."

Thorin sighed. "Don't you think I finally worked that one out? The only person who damaged our relationship that night was me. Now, come on. Bed."

But Lostwithiel was on a roll. "There's just one more thing I've got to tell you, something I'm really, really sorry for."

"All right," said Thorin resignedly, "one more thing. And then, bed."

"It happened during those first two weeks of training – when you came up to the farmhouse with that bundle of swords. The men found out for the first time that you were her husband and they were pretty shocked."

"And you want to apologise for telling them," said Thorin.

"Yes. No. Yes – but there's more." Lostwithiel ploughed on. "It's difficult to describe how we felt about the two of you."

"Try," said Thorin, suddenly sitting very still.

"Well," the elf cleared his throat. "It was a mixture of disgust and – er – excitement." Thorin's eyes turned icy and suddenly Lostwithiel began to wish he had never started.

"Explain 'excitement'," said Thorin in glacial tones.

"Well, you know – you and Tauriel – it seemed a very – exotic relationship – and somehow – unworthy – of an elf. And, when I thought about it, it made me feel – sort of – you know –"

"No, I don't know," said Thorin flatly.

"Well, umm..." Lostwithiel wished he had gone to bed when he had had the chance.

"And did you do anything about this – feeling of 'excitement'?" asked Thorin calmly but Lostwithiel somehow seemed pinned to his seat by every syllable.

"Yes," whispered Lostwithiel.

"Tell me," said an implacable Thorin.

Lostwithiel hunched over the table and muttered something inaudible.

"I can't hear you," said Thorin softly.

"I waited until everyone was asleep and then I went to her room and – and got into bed with her."

Thorin was over the table so fast that he caught the elf completely by surprise. He had him by the throat and pinned up against the wall in a fraction of a second.

"You did WHAT?!" he roared and, for a moment, Lostwithiel thought Thorin was going to snap his neck. The elf lord had the advantage of height but Thorin had the superior strength and was driven by rage.

"N-nothing happened," he managed to gasp.

"Were you clothed?"

"N-no. N-naked." Thorin's hand tightened in a spasm on his throat.

"And did you touch her?"

"Y-yes. And – and I bit her lip." Lostwithiel was too terrified not to tell the truth.

With another roar, Thorin threw him across the room. The elf sprawled in the corner and put up his hands defensively. "She kicked me out of bed! She broke my nose!" he cried.

"I'll break every bone in your body!" the dwarf thundered and lunged towards him. Lostwithiel suddenly felt amazingly sober. He realised that this was a serious fight and, rolling to one side, managed to spring to his feet.

It was as vicious as a pub brawl. Furniture was used, thrown and smashed. No holds were barred. Thorin was doing his best to kill Lostwithiel and Lostwithiel was doing his best to preserve his life by whatever method came to hand. In many ways, they were pretty equally matched and they had just got to the point where they were rolling around on the floor with Thorin trying to choke the elf to death and Lostwithiel trying to gouge out the dwarf's eyes when the door was flung open and a commanding voice yelled: "Stop this! At once!"

The two of them froze and, glancing up from their prone position, saw a furious Tauriel standing on the threshold with Dog panting at her knee.

"Get up!" she said in disgusted tones. They both struggled to their feet, looking suitably uncomfortable, and gazed shiftily at the floor. The table had been turned over, several chairs were completely smashed and various items of crockery were lying in pieces around the room. The wine jug had splattered its contents everywhere.

"So?" asked Tauriel.

Thorin compressed his lips and looked away. Lostwithiel cleared his throat and looked embarrassed.

Tauriel figured out the situation immediately. She rolled her eyes. "You didn't tell him, Lostwithiel, did you, you idiot?" He nodded miserably. "What on earth possessed you to do that?" she snapped. "I thought we agreed it was our secret. You might have expected this!" And she gestured helplessly around the destroyed room.

"Your SECRET!" blazed Thorin. "How dare you keep a secret like that from me?!"

Tauriel looked at him coldly and said in a cutting tone he had never heard her use to him before: "And how dare you speak to me like that?" Thorin bit his tongue and looked away again. The elf shuffled his feet and seemed mortified.

"Now, clear up this room," she said. And for the next hour they cleared up the room in silence. When they had finished, Tauriel sent Lostwithiel off to the guest rooms. "And clean yourself up too! There's a pump in the forge," she said.

Thorin stood sullenly by the fireplace. "I wasn't expecting you back until tomorrow," he said.

"There's a full moon tonight – plenty of light. I thought I'd travel home early and give you a nice surprise," she said grimly. She made him sit down and got a bowl of water. "This is the second time in as many months I've had to do this," she said, dabbing viciously. "I can't tell you how angry I feel at the moment, Thorin."

"And I can't tell you how angry I'm feeling too," muttered Thorin.

.o00o.

PT II

Thorin and Tauriel lay side by side in bed, not touching. She had been looking forward to surprising Thorin with her unexpected arrival. The children were staying with Dis for a whole week and she had kept herself entertained on the long ride home with thoughts of herself and her husband enjoying their time ALONE together. And now he and Lostwithiel had totally spoiled things between them.

She couldn't believe that the elf lord had thought it appropriate to confess his sins to Thorin; nor could she believe the dwarf's overreaction to what, after all, had only been a bit of foolishness. But, perhaps she could. Thorin's passions were extreme and it was impossible to know sometimes which way he would jump. And he had certainly jumped all over Lostwithiel. If she weren't so angry, she could almost laugh.

Thorin wasn't laughing. He hadn't felt so angry in a long time and his emotions were proving almost impossible for him to contain. He kept on re-playing in his mind the image of the handsome elf sneaking into his wife's bedroom, then STRIPPING OFF and getting under the coverlets with her. He could see his TALL, elegant, well-honed body pressing up against hers, his long, beautiful fingers touching her, his cupid's bow mouth moulding themselves to her mouth and his sharp, white teeth biting her lip.

He wondered if Tauriel had enjoyed it. He wondered if she had responded. How could any normal woman not feel some attraction for the good-looking elf lord? Had she really broken his nose or had it been broken by the orcs when they found them having fun in bed together? Deep down, Thorin knew that his thoughts were running amok along the wrong track once more - that this was a bit of over-indulgent self-torture - but he still wanted to leap from his bed and finish the job he had started on Lostwithiel.

And he was so angry with Tauriel. She was his wife and yet she had kept this from him, had made it a dirty, little secret between her and Lostwithiel. He had been shut out and he wanted to know why. He wondered if they laughed about it behind his back. And, for the one hundredth time that night, he wondered why she had married him, what it was that he and his forge had to offer her, when so many others had sought out her hand – her hand AND her other bits.

Neither of them slept. When dawn came, Tauriel was the first out of bed. "Where are you going?" asked Thorin as she swept out of the room.

"To tell Lostwithiel that I'm about to make breakfast," she said, heading for the front door.

Thorin leapt up and yelled after her: "You just make sure he's got some clothes on before you go in there!"

But Tauriel just knocked on the door of the guest suite and called to the elf to get up before returning to the house where Thorin was struggling to get dressed. "Well?" he said.

"Stark naked," she said and disappeared off into the kitchen, leaving her husband to wonder whether she was joking or not.

Breakfast was a difficult meal. Nobody spoke but the elf and the dwarf eyed each other sideways trying to estimate the amount of damage they had done to each other's face. "I'd say it's a draw," commented Tauriel seeing their glances.

"Thank you for the food," said Lostwithiel stiffly. "I'll be off, then."

"No, you won't," snapped Tauriel. "You're supposed to stay today to help Thorin with the roof." They both opened their mouths to protest but, seeing her look, shut them again, sighed and went outside to fetch the stone tiles and the ladders.

It was quite difficult working together on the roof without talking to each other but, somehow, they managed. It was a hot day and, in the end, they both had to strip to the waist, where the damage from the previous day's fight became obvious. And Thorin couldn't help but examine the details of the elf's fit body and entering that information into the scenario that still kept on replaying in his head. He would have been happier if Lostwithiel had been skinny or overweight.

By late afternoon, the roof was nearly finished and both had had enough. Lostwithiel came down first, apologising to Tauriel that he had to return the wagon to the Grey Havens before going up to the outpost. She helped him with the horse and then he got ready to mount onto the seat. "I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused," he said. "I only wanted to apologise to Thorin because I felt so badly about you-know-what."

She sighed. "He'll get over it. Give him some time."

"Do you forgive me for yesterday, then?" he asked.

"Oh, get on with you," she grinned and she patted his hand and rose on her toes to peck him on the cheek. Thorin was just coming down from the roof at that moment and he could quite willingly have impaled him on his pitchfork. He glowered as his wife waved Lostwithiel goodbye.

They went into the house together and Tauriel pointed to the table. "Sit down," she said, "and let's talk about it."

Thorin sat down sullenly and said, "Hasn't it all been said?"

"No, I don't think so," said Tauriel. "You start."

He was silent for some time and then said: "I feel I have the right to kill or, at the very least, seriously injure, any person who has forced himself upon my wife." Having stated the obvious, Thorin sat back, folded his arms and looked righteous.

"And what if the wife has talked it through with that person and has accepted his apology? Doesn't that count?"

"No," growled Thorin, "because you're my wife and any assault on you is an assault on me. And if I want revenge then I shall have it."

"And so, my opinion counts for less than your dignity," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Could that possibly be because you think of me as your possession and, therefore, have fewer rights?"

Thorin could see himself being cornered. "Well, you are my wife," he said at last.

"Yes, and you're my husband," she retorted, "but you certainly don't act like you are sometimes."

"But shouldn't a husband be angry over this?" he asked, beginning to look confused. She always wanted to kiss him when that confused look appeared on his face, but she held off for the moment.

"Not if the wife feels she has resolved the issue and is happy with the outcome." He still looked stubborn so she continued: "Look, when we got married, so many elves and dwarves and men found that they couldn't come to terms with it. Lostwithiel felt very muddled and that's why he did what he did. He apologised; it's over. I think he now loves us both more than any other of his friends and that's why he got this urge to apologise to you. He couldn't bear for there to be secrets between us." She let out a breath. "I'm glad you know about it. Now I just want you to get over it."

Thorin stared at the floor for some time. In the end, he raised his eyes to her and gave her that special little-boy-lost look up through his long, dark lashes that he always affected when he wanted his way. "Well," he said in a husky voice, "perhaps a kiss would help me get over it." She laughed and, bending forward, seized him by his plaits and kissed him. He stood up and, sweeping her into his arms, made for the bedroom. "I think I'm out of practice," he murmured. "Now that the children aren't here, I can think of lots of things that might help me get over it." And he kicked the bedroom door shut behind him.

.o00o.

The next morning, after hours of very solid practice, Thorin was roused from his sleep by Tauriel getting out of bed. She began to put on her captain's uniform and he was immediately awake. "What are you doing?" he said.

"It's my day up at the outpost," she said. "I'm afraid I won't be back until tomorrow morning. I've got to go with the men on a night patrol."

Thorin hated her going on night patrols, especially as the danger of orc attacks became more likely. But he tried not to make a fuss and helped her get breakfast ready.

As she mounted her horse, she bent to kiss him one last time and then grinned. "I'll be back at dawn tomorrow. Keep the bed warm!"

.o00o.

PT III

As Tauriel rode up to the outpost, she couldn't help but feel that it held a very special place in her heart. It was something that was all hers, something that she had created and something that she could be proud of. Borondin was on guard duty and saluted her gleefully and soon the others came out to meet her, saluting and helping her from her horse, taking it to the stable and carrying her pack. They all looked so pleased to see her and she was genuinely pleased to see them. Like Lostwithiel, her troop glowed with strength and health because of their active, outdoor life. They were such a fine, good-looking body of men and, although they had bulked up, they still retained their grace and speed.

As she was about to enter the farmhouse, Borondin called out and they all turned to see Lostwithiel riding up from the Grey Havens. As he got nearer, they were shocked to see his battered and bruised face. "Had a run-in with a pack of orcs, sarge?" asked Rostrel with concern. Lostwithiel looked embarrassed and glanced at Tauriel.

"No," she said in a concerned voice. "Worse than that. He was helping Thorin to rebuild our roof yesterday and he slipped and fell." There were exclamations of sympathy and lots of tips offered on how not to fall off a roof.

"You might have been killed, sarge," said Lithin.

"Yes, indeed," said Lostwithiel, fingering his injuries gently, "there was a moment when I thought I had breathed my last." He looked at Tauriel and they both grinned at each other. Thank goodness, Tauriel thought. Things seem back to normal.

"How's Thorin?" he asked her in the office later.

"Getting over things," she smiled. "Don't worry. He will have forgotten about it soon enough and we can all be friends again."

"You know," he continued, "I really don't understand what came over me that night. I feel so ashamed. I just can't imagine any reason why I would want to get into bed with you."

"Keep digging, sergeant," she said.

He blushed: "You know what I mean."

"Do I?" she asked innocently. "Perhaps you can explain yourself, soldier."

"Well, sir, it's not that I don't find you attractive or anything... because I do..." He spluttered to a halt.

"Now, don't let Thorin hear you say that," she said with mock severity, "or you might find yourself just about to breathe your last again."

He caught the twinkle in her eye and gave a laugh of relief. "I thought you were being serious there, sir."

"Oh, but surely I was?" said Tauriel. And then, seeing the bemused look on his face, she felt sorry for him and added with a smile: "OK, sergeant. At ease."

They spent the rest of the morning studying maps and discussing rumours of orc movements. Over the past few years, there had been only a few insignificant raids with the capture of Tauriel and Lostwithiel from the outpost being the most serious. No man, elf or dwarf had lost their lives, mainly because the number of attackers had been so small. But, now, news came in daily of the orcs gathering in groups of thirty or forty and this is why the fortification of farmhouses was currently considered so important. Tauriel set out her route for the night manoeuvres and then they retired to the kitchen for discussions with the rest of her men.

The kitchen had become a desirable place to be. The old table had been cleaned and polished and the chairs had been repaired skilfully and added to. The big iron stove was always lit and glowed comfortably; the flagstones were well-scrubbed and scattered with rugs; and, surprisingly, there were flowers and decorative branches everywhere. It gave the room a feminine touch but all elves love plants and growing things and delight in their fragrance.

They ate their mid-day meal, then sat around the table sharing information and experiences. Everyone was concerned about the increasing number of orc tracks they had found in recent weeks, although these were not numerous and there had been no sightings.

That afternoon, Tauriel instructed them on cooking over an open fire. This was a popular lesson since they got to eat the meals they created that evening and there was much fun and laughter as they either made a hash of things or achieved top culinary status.

They ate well that evening and, as darkness fell, Tauriel, Lostwithiel and four more of her soldiers set out on their night trek. It was a full moon but, although clouds were coming and going across its face, their keen eyesight allowed them to see the countryside effectively. They headed for the area between the farmhouse and the crossroads where there were steep hills of crumbling shale and gorges, providing potential hiding-places for the enemy. Tauriel and Lostwithiel took up position in the shelter of a group of trees and sent off the other four to check out the gullies and ravines. "Report back in two hours," she said. But in less than two hours, they came hurrying back with the news that they had found a group of twelve orcs making its way through one of the gorges.

"Two each," grinned Lithin. "We couldn't miss them - they were making such a racket." His eyes were bright and excited at the thought of the first piece of action since the raid on the outpost. They moved with the silence of elves until they found the orc band, marching and stumbling along one of the rocky gullies. They took up position on the slopes above; Tauriel organised them with a few gestures and each marked his man. At a signal from their captain, they loosed their arrows. The first six fell and, as the other six ran for cover in a panic, a second flight struck them to the ground as well.

They ran to check them out, killing knives at the ready, but they were all dead. "Well done, lads," said Tauriel. "Excellent work." But Lostwithiel was concerned.

"They're not carrying much," he said as he examined the bodies. "They were obviously intending to travel fast and light. Perhaps they're scouts."

"Then, I wonder where the main party is – and how big it is?" pondered Tauriel.

Just at that moment, there was a whoosh and an explosion as one of Gandalf's rockets burst in spectacular fashion above them, illuminating with its flowering stars the countryside for miles around.

"Well, there's part of your answer," said Lostwithiel grimly. "The main party appear to have launched an attack. But, I'm afraid that the rocket was coming from your forge!"

.o00o.

Thorin was spending a very lonely day. It was the first time he had been completely on his own in more than two years. Usually, the children kept him company when Tauriel went up to the outpost but they were still with Dis. "I've only got you, Dog," he sighed, looking down at the animal stretched across his feet. "But I suppose you're better than nothing." Dog sighed too. He was also missing everyone.

After Tauriel had gone, Thorin had fetched the ladder from the forge to complete the work on the roof but, after only an hour in the hot sun, when his bruises and the sunburn from the previous day were making him feel sorry for himself, he decided to come down and work on his commissions in the forge. Dog was pleased about that because he could lie on his feet and they could be miserable together.

As Thorin worked on a gold belt buckle, he pondered how he had once lived for years on his own and had rather enjoyed it but, ever since Tauriel had come into his life, he had felt lost without her. He remembered that dreadful year – entirely his own fault – when he had stormed out of the forge and she had gone off with Thranduil. His pride and his overheated imagination had stopped him from going after her and he had suffered needlessly because of it.

He had made her suffer too, accusing her of being in love with the elven king and breaking off their betrothal. He had taken her to his bed one last time and then had cast their betrothal rings into the flames. But she had loved him so much and understood him so well that she had waited for him in Rivendell, knowing that, in the end, he would come to her. And there had been no harsh words. She had kissed him and forgiven him and given him a beautiful son.

He had learned a bitter lesson.

Or had he? Thorin fidgeted guiltily on his seat as he thought about the events of the previous day when he had been so overwhelmed with jealous images that he had nearly killed a friend. And then he had somehow tried to pass the blame onto Tauriel, treating her like the piece of gold he was working on, a beautiful object to be shut away and safeguarded from the eyes of the world, like the valuable pieces that he kept hidden in his forge or in the vaults of the Grey Havens.

"Right!" he said, standing up abruptly, startling Dog. "Today is a new day. No more jealousy; no more bad temper. From now on, I shall be the husband and the father that Tauriel and the children expect me to be! When I see Lostwithiel next, I shall apologise for my stupidity...Even though I think he was in the wrong and deserved it," he added. Dog looked unconvinced.

The rest of the day dragged on slowly. He and Dog ate an evening meal together and then went around the hall testing out the new anti-orc shutters. He bolted and barred them all - there were two at the front, two at the back and one on the end gable – and tested the arrow slits, which could also be opened or closed. He then barred the door with the strong strips of metal that he had recently forged for the purpose. After that he went to the stash of bows, arrows and spears and shared them out and stored them beneath the five windows. Gandalf's rockets he placed next to the fireplace along with the tinder box. Orcrist and his long-handled axe he propped in a corner.

He didn't mind being shut in like his, with no natural light, although he was sure the children would object but, for the moment at least, if they wanted to live at the forge, these were the precautions they would have to take nightly.

He got himself ready for bed; if he went to sleep, the dawn and Tauriel would come all the more quickly... if he went to sleep, of course. Before he went to his room, he tried one final thing: a bit of Dog training. "Guard!" he said firmly to Dog, and pointed to the door. Dog looked at him as if he were mad, jumped onto the bed and snuggled under the coverlets. Ah well, thought Thorin, he would have to put that on his list of Things to Do, along with the roof.

Against all expectations, Thorin fell quickly to sleep, helped by the shuttered darkness of the room. But it felt like only a brief moment before he was woken again by Dog, whining quietly and snuffling around the front door. He was immediately awake and, pulling on his breeches, he moved swiftly and silently across the room to one of the front shutters. Carefully, he opened the arrow slit and gazed out into the night. The moon was shining brightly and, amongst the trees and bushes that surrounded the forge, he could see large, moving shapes. Orcs! And a lot of them! An attack was happening at last and he was only glad that neither Tauriel nor the children were here to share it with him.

An orc broke away from the main group and slunk towards the house. It approached the far window and seemed to be trying to peer in through a gap in the shutters. Thorin moved to the window, picked up a spear and, silently releasing the catch on the arrow slit, thrust it with all his strength out into the dark. He felt his spear strike home; there was a terrible scream and then silence. Well, that had given the game away, he thought. Now they knew that he was home too. Then he sprang to the fireplace and quickly set fire to the tinder inside the box. It caught immediately and he held it to the tail of the rocket. The chimney stack was large and wide, and you could see the stars if you stood in the hearth and looked upwards. The rocket shot straight and true up the chimney and burst in a giant explosion of beautiful flowers into the darkness. And Thorin felt more than a small amount of pleasure that one of his plans had worked. Now, all he had to do was hold them at bay.

The orcs suffered a few moments of panic, startled by the death of their comrade and also by the firework bursting above them. He guessed they had never seen anything like it before. Then, before they could gather their wits, he ran to each of the front windows, firing off a number of arrows from each of them into the group behind the trees. From the yells, he reckoned he had got at least four of them.

Then they spread out and began to surround the forge and he ran first to the gable end and then to the rear windows, firing volleys of arrows from each. Not only did he catch them unawares so that a few more went down, but he was confident that they thought, at least for the moment, that the house must be manned by half a dozen men. And every time he caught one slinking up to the windows, he speared him in the same way as he had done the first orc.

Thorin was beginning to enjoy himself. He reckoned he had killed or injured at least fifteen of the thirty or forty orcs gathered outside his forge. Keep on coming, he grinned. But suddenly they withdrew and it went silent. What were they up to? And then he heard a banging and crashing as they forced their way into his forge and a screaming of horses as they broke into the stables. There was a thunder of hooves as his two horses burst out of the barn and galloped away. No escape on horseback, then, he thought.

After that, it went silent again and he wondered what they were doing in the forge. Then he saw some of them emerging with ladders and he knew what they would do next. He ran to the kitchen pump and began to fill buckets and containers with water. Soon, a whole hail of fire arrows began to rain upon his roof and he cursed himself that he hadn't finished replacing the thatch with the stone tiles. It wasn't long before the straw caught.

Thorin dragged his table to the centre of the room where the great beam ran the length of the house. He built a platform using a second table from the kitchen and a chair, climbed this makeshift ladder and, with a bucket carried in one hand, managed to reach the beam. He walked along the beam and drenched the smouldering thatch. The fire was extinguished and he returned again and again until both beam and straw were thoroughly soaked.

But then he had to dash to defend his door as a group began to batter it with a large log they had found in the wood. He managed to kill one with an arrow but spear thrusts through the arrow slit in the door proved the most effective form of defence.

A crashing above his head distracted him. They had climbed to the roof and were pulling away the remnants of the thatch. At the same moment, he realised that they had set his forge on fire. Well, that would have to wait. He could see an orc face peering through the hole in the roof and a host of them would come at him from that direction if he didn't stop them. He climbed back onto the great beam once more, axe in hand, and confronted an armed orc who was edging towards him from the other end. Thorin was very agile and, using the long handle of his axe to help his balance, he rushed the orc and struck him from the beam before the creature had the chance to go more than a few steps.

Then he climbed through the hole and emerged out onto the roof to face the other invaders. His forge was in flames and, soon, the main house would catch too. But now, with his back to the hall's chimney stack and his axe in his hand he felt he could make a good stand against the last group of orcs. Twenty to one! Well, he was in with a chance. He bestrode the ridge and it was impossible for more than one of them to come at him at any one time. He roared in a battle fury as, one by one, he struck them down.

But then, a large orc, armed with a bow, and standing on the roof at a safe distance from the reach of his axe, fired an arrow that struck him in the arm so that he dropped his weapon. The creature grinned in triumph and, coming closer, raised his bow to shoot him through the heart. Thorin saw his death. But, suddenly and unexpectedly, the bowman collapsed with an arrow through his neck. He heard a great whoop and there was Lostwithiel waving his bow in triumph as Tauriel and her men ran into the clearing.

The end for the raiding party came very quickly. The elves soon wiped out most of them with their arrows and knives, though a few escaped into the woods. Tauriel was the first up the ladder and onto the roof whilst Borondin and Rostrel attempted to put out the fire in the forge. She cradled Thorin in her arms and he could see the tears glinting in her eyes.

"Gandalf's rockets worked then," he said.

Three of them managed to lower him down from the roof while Lithin climbed inside the house and opened the door. Dog was barking in frustration because he had been unable to get out and join in the fun and fussed over Thorin as they carried him to his bed.

"It's only a flesh wound," said Tauriel as she cleaned and bound Thorin's arm.

Her troop cleared away the orc bodies and got them ready for burning. "That was an amazing feat," said Lostwithiel. "You killed twenty-five out of forty of them singlehandedly."

"But all that effort would have been pointless if you hadn't arrived to shoot down that bowman," acknowledged Thorin. And he leaned forward and grasped Lostwithiel by the arm. He didn't have to say any more. The elf knew that everything was all right between them again.

The forge was nearly totally destroyed but the valuable commissions and Thorin's other possessions were still safe and undamaged in their hiding place. "We'll catch your horses tomorrow," said Lostwithiel.

.o00o.

"Well, you didn't keep the bed very warm," said Tauriel as she got in beside her husband.

"Warm enough," he grinned.

"Warm enough for what?" she asked. "You're a wounded man, remember."

"It's only a wounded arm," whispered Thorin in her ear, "not a vital organ." And he lowered himself over her and kissed a sensitive spot behind her pointed ear.

"Well, I'm very relieved about that," she murmured, and she tugged his plaits gently and pulled him down upon her breast.

.o00o.


	9. Chapter 9 Thorin and the Dark

So, the orc raid has partially destroyed Thorin's home and he and Tauriel must move to temporary accommodation while both extensions and repair work get done. Where will they go? And will the move involve more adventures?

.o00o.

THORIN AND THE DARK

PT I

The morning after the raid, Thorin was awake before Tauriel. A lot of things were hurting, his wounded arm in particular. As he tried to ease it from under his wife's golden head, he let out a groan and she stirred sleepily. "Is it time to get up?" she asked.

"No, not yet," he said, "but you're lying on my arm." Full of concern, she immediately rolled away. "Don't go too far," he murmured, edging after her. "I think I could stand the pain if you kissed it better afterwards." And he gave her a brave little look.

"You're as bad as the children," she smiled, touching his face tenderly. "Perhaps worse."

"Definitely worse," he breathed in his dark, silken voice. "A real, bad boy."

She ran her fingers through his mass of black hair and pulled him towards her so that she could kiss the graze on his forehead. Then she kissed the bruise on his cheekbone and the scratch on his nose. After that, she kissed the red marks on his neck where Lostwithiel had been a little overenthusiastic in his own self defence. She pushed the sheet back and it slid onto the floor. The bruises on his chest were more vivid than ever and she lowered her head to brush her lips gently over them. He groaned and his eyelids fluttered in expectation.

There was a sharp rap on the bedroom door and it was flung open by Lostwithiel who entered with a tray. "Breakfast!" he sang cheerfully.

Thorin let out an expletive and immediately rolled over on top of Tauriel, hiding her naked body from view. "Not looking! Not looking!" the elf carolled as he placed the tray on the bedside table. "And, anyway, it's nothing that..."

"Don't you dare say," growled Thorin, thinking of the elf lord's escapade with his wife, "that it's nothing you haven't seen already, or, I promise you, this time I really will kill you."

Lostwithiel stood by the bed and looked down at Thorin's fine backside. "Well, what I was going to say," he said, "is that you've got nothing that I haven't got so there's nothing to be ashamed of." And, with that, he gave the dwarf's buttocks a hearty slap and sailed, singing, out of the room.

Thorin and Tauriel looked wide-eyed at each other for a moment and then collapsed in a splutter of laughter.

"You need to keep that man under control," gasped Thorin rolling onto his back once more.

"No time," said Tauriel, as Thorin pulled her onto his chest. "I'm too busy keeping this one under control."

.o00o.

After Thorin had given her a full demonstration of his uncontrollable behaviour, the breakfast was stone cold. They got dressed and opened the bedroom door. A huge cheer greeted them and they stood transfixed on the threshold. "Damn!" said Thorin, staring at all of Tauriel's troop who were gathered around the dining table. "I'd forgotten about that lot!" Not only the patrol but everyone else from the outpost had seen the signal rocket and had galloped to Thorin's rescue. They had been sleeping all over the place that night – outside, in the guest rooms, in the barn and in the hall - and now they were waiting to congratulate him and fuss over him. Not only was he their captain's husband but he was their mentor, a great warrior and a real man. And, on the previous night – in more ways than one - he had proved it. And a few of them winked at each other.

Thorin felt a bit uncomfortable when he saw their knowing grins, but they drew him to the table and set food before him and discussed in detail all the ploys he had used in defence of the forge until he felt overwhelmed by their praise and enthusiasm. "You've proved to all of Ered Luin and the Grey Havens that your ideas were the right ones. If one man can hold off forty orcs using your methods, then just think how successful half a dozen could be," they said. And Thorin had to admit that he felt a real sense of satisfaction.

Then they discussed what he and Tauriel and his family should do next. The forge was almost completely gutted; the guest rooms were suffering from smoke damage and the stables had been trashed by the orcs. The hall itself had largely escaped except that the roof needed to be completed – and completed quickly – since the thatched section had been burned or ripped off. Tauriel thought it a good idea for them all to move elsewhere while the repair work and rebuilding was done.

Neither of them fancied moving back to the Grey Havens even though it would have been convenient to rent their old house and use the forge Thorin had cobbled together in the town. The outpost was too small to take the entire family and not really suitable for children. And so that left the dwarven settlement. This was the obvious choice: the children were already there, Dis would love to have their company for a while, he could use the forges to complete his commissions, he could consult with the masons and carpenters over the repair work and he could explore the caves that had been made into a home for the dwarves in exile. They were very extensive and he had only ever had the opportunity to visit parts of them; and besides, it would be nice to live underground once more.

After breakfast, most of the elves returned to their post up at the farmhouse but Lostwithiel and a couple of the others went up on the roof to complete the job and close the hole. Then they also went back to their duties. Tauriel and Thorin spent the day packing and tidying, but then stayed one more night at the hall. Out of a whole week that they had planned to spend alone together, they were only going to salvage a single night. Thorin was grumpy but his wife pointed out that it was better than nothing. "And also," she added, "much, much better than having your husband killed by orcs!"

Thorin pulled his sulky face – the face designed to persuade Tauriel that he needed to be wheedled back into a good humour. He enjoyed her wheedling. "What about," she cajoled, "if we try to pack a week's worth into one night – just to make up for it, hmmm?"

He pursed his lips doubtfully.

"Or perhaps you don't think you're up to it," she teased.

"Well, I could try," he said with a sigh. And he gave the night his best shot.

.o00o.

When they reached the dwarven settlement the next day, Dis was first of all surprised to see them, then horrified to hear of the orc attack and then thrilled that they wanted to stay for some weeks. Rose and Arion were out playing with the dwarf and men children and Dog was sent to find them. They soon came rushing back and flung their arms excitedly about their parents, their tongues tripping over themselves as they gave garbled accounts of the delightful time they had spent so far with their aunt. When they heard that they were all going to stay longer, they jumped and whooped around the room, then were even more excited when they heard the reason why.

Neither seemed particularly concerned that Thorin might have been killed. After all, he was a legendary warrior and they had absolute faith in his immortality. They both climbed upon his lap and wanted to know every gory detail.

"I wish I 'ad been there," said Rose, her eyes glowing. "I could've guarded them arrow slits with a spear. I could've stuck them one." And Arion protested that he was a good climber and that he could have got up on the roof and "pushed them orcses off!"

"One good thing about all this," said Tauriel, "when they go to rebuild the forge, we'll get them to build you a bedroom all of your own, Rose, next to Arion's. Isn't that nice?"

But, no, it wasn't nice. Rose and Dog and Arion were pack animals, running and tumbling and playing and sleeping together. Arion cried that he didn't want to sleep on his own because he was frightened of the dark and Rose said that she liked sleeping in Arion's room and telling him stories before he went to sleep.

"No wonder he has nightmares," said Thorin.

Then they both argued over who Dog would sleep with.

"Well," said Rose. "We could always get anuvver one."

"No!" said Thorin and Tauriel together.

It was late, and, in the end, tired and excited, they both fell asleep on Thorin's broad chest. Tauriel moved to carry them to bed. "No, let them stay for a bit," he said.

Dis sighed and looked fondly at Thorin and the two sleeping children. "My sons loved you too, brother," she said softly. "There's something about you that attracts children."

"I can't imagine what," he said. "I'm always so grumpy with them."

"I think that's what they like," laughed Tauriel.

.o00o.

In bed that night, Tauriel cuddled up to Thorin and said, "I'm a bit worried about the children and their sleeping habits."

"In what way?" said Thorin. "Apart from the fact that their sleeping habits often involve them sleeping habitually with us."

"Well, that's one aspect," said his wife, "but it's all wrapped up with them not liking to be on their own. Arion's afraid of the dark and monsters and has nightmares. Rose is nine. She's such an adult child and yet she clings to both you and Arion. It's as if she's too afraid to let you out of her sight in case you disappear."

Thorin reassured her. "Hopefully, Arion is just being normal for his age. Once Rose moves to a separate room, I reckon he'll see that he's got nothing to be afraid of. Rose is a bit more tricky. She's been through so much, it's not surprising that she's always waiting for the next horrible thing to happen to her. She'll learn to feel safe in the end."

"And perhaps," said Tauriel, "once she's got her own room, she'll realise the advantages of sleeping on her own."

"Tell me about them," murmured Thorin, nuzzling her neck. "I can't think of any advantages to sleeping on my own right now."

.o00o.

PT II

Dis' house was splendidly unusual. It was carved into the rock face near the entrance to the main caverns. The front of it had a door and windows, just like a nomal house, but the rest stretched back and back, so that the rear rooms had no natural light and the back door made its exit into the cave system. The guest bedroom was in a rear room and Thorin loved it there because it reminded him of his childhood home in the Lonely Mountain.

"I feel I become a lot more dwarvish here," he said to Tauriel. "You'll have to watch out for unusual changes in me." And he laughed.

The children shared a front bedroom with natural light because Arion was afraid of the dark.

"Well, he doesn't get it from my side of the family, I must admit," said Thorin. "Where is the dwarf in him?"

"Well, perhaps his elven side is dominant in this instance," said Tauriel. "I don't really like this room either. The darkness oppresses me and I feel trapped. I'd rather sleep up a tree any day."

They overslept on their first morning because they had no dawn to wake them. The one advantage, Tauriel thought, was that the children didn't like the room either and kept to their own sunlit sleeping quarters. But they were having a very good time at their aunt's home. As usual, Rose had become a leader amongst the local dwarven children even though she wasn't a dwarf. The force of her character, her sense of fun and her lively ideas for passing the time and getting into trouble attracted them like a magnet. But, her very best friend and follower was a young dwarf lad called Darri, older than Rose but already shorter. He was daring and reckless like Rose and had the same sense of humour and they could often be found rocking with laughter over some private joke in a corner of the caves.

The dark held no fears for Darri and he knew the vast cave system like the back of his hand. Together, he and Rose explored its furthest reaches and, in less than a week, she had become more comfortable underground than Arion. She knew more about the caves than even Thorin who was only familiar with the outer halls.

"It's all just so beautiful," she said to them at breakfast.

"Beautiful?" said Tauriel, making odious comparisons in her head with the airy caves and the tree houses of Mirkwood. To her, what little she had seen here was vast, echoing and gloomy, its dark corners dimly lit by an insufficient number of lanterns.

"I'll get Darri to take you all on a guided tour," Rose said. "He knows all the best bits. Wouldn't you like to come and see, Arion?" she asked, but the little boy looked slightly doubtful of the pleasure.

However, the whole family went off to examine the forges deep down in the mountains. Thorin needed to finish off a couple of commissions, "and then I'll take a break," he said. Tauriel and the children were interested in seeing a large number of dwarves all doing what they did best and they were certainly impressed. Iron was mined in the Blue Mountains and it was brought to the furnaces to be smelted and forged into weapons and tools. A huge cavern with a lofty ceiling was alive with smiths working at their anvils; the heat was fierce and giant vents drew the smoke away to the upper world. The noise was tremendous and the children screamed with excitement and covered their ears.

Gold was not forged in these caves and so Thorin soon had an audience who wanted to see the beautiful jewellery that he was making. Tauriel and the children left him in the middle of an enthusiastic crowd and the elf smiled to see that he was revelling in the interest and attention.

"I'm going to take you to see something special tonight that Darri has told me about," said Rose, "and then you'll see just how beautiful these caves can be."

Thorin returned from his day at the forges satisfied and happy. He was filthy and stained with sweat and Tauriel took him to the washroom where he stripped off and cleaned up. She worked a tall pump whilst he drenched himself beneath it. He seems so full of life, she thought. It was as if the massed energies of the forges had entered him so that he radiated their fire and energy. He squeezed out his wet hair and ran his hands down his limbs sluicing off the dirt. Then he turned towards her with a devilish glint.

She backed off, laughing. "No," she said.

"Yes," he insisted. And he cornered her before she could run for the door and wrapped her in his arms, pressing her against his naked, sopping body. She laughed and complained and wriggled but gradually her struggles ceased as he kissed her with an intensity that seemed to radiate from his contact with the forge.

"Do you know how much I love you, Tauriel?" he whispered.

She held his face between her hands and looked steadily into his eyes. "Show me," she said.

His blue eyes turned smokey and then black with passion and he reached to the door and turned the key.

.o00o.

After the evening meal, Darri came visiting. "We're going to take you on a trip," said Rose. "Darri says it's lovely. Can Arion stay up tonight so that he can come too?"

Tauriel could see the excitement shining in Rose's eyes and didn't want to spoil her treat and so said that Arion could come if he wished. Arion was wide-eyed at the thought of staying up late with all the big people and, when they were ready, Rose and Darri lead the way.

They penetrated deeper and deeper into the heart of the Blue Mountains, passing through an amazing succession of caverns. Some were dripping with an array of stalactites that fell and rippled in cream and orange and snowy white flows from the ceiling and finished in a reflection of still pools. Other caves glittered with silvery ores and fool's gold threading through the walls in a myriad patterns and some were a wonder of pillars and ceilings carved into the living stone by the hand of the dwarves. At first, Arion insisted on being carried by his father; then he walked holding tightly onto his mother's hand, and finally he ran ahead with the other two children, pointing and laughing in wonder. Tauriel linked her arm through her husband's. "It is very beautiful," she said.

They emerged from one cavern at a complex crossing of tunnels. Darri pointed down one darkened corridor and said that a whole series of new caves had been found that were just waiting to be opened up and explored. And then they turned into a final cavern and had reached the promised destination.

The cave was a massive circular space, scoured out in ages past by some giant eddy. No pillar supported its roof which seemed held up by unknown forces and Tauriel felt momentarily afraid as she glanced up and considered the great weight of the mountain above pressing down upon them. And then she saw that it had been made into an amphitheatre with seats carved into the stone on one side, and these seats faced the most remarkable feature of the cavern: a great lake, dark and glassy and still. There were already many dwarves gathered on the seats and, soon after their arrival, a number of attendants began to remove and quench the lanterns one by one until, at last, they were sitting in an impenetrable darkness. Arion was sitting on Rose's lap next to Thorin and his excitement at this very grown-up moment overcame his fear. "Wait," whispered Darri.

They stared ahead into the darkness until Thorin imagined he could hear the strains of music played on many harps. And then, on the left hand side of the lake, he thought he could see the palest glimmer of light. As they strained their eyes and ears, the glimmer became a glow and he could hear the plaintive chanting of dwarven voices and he recognised the song: it was the song from his youth, the song that sang to him, and to the exiled dwarves sitting all about him, the story of the destruction of their home under the Lonely Mountain by the dragon Smaug:

The pines were roaring on the height,

The winds were moaning in the night.

The fire was red, it flaming spread;

The trees like torches blazed with light.

A low-slung boat emerged from behind the rocks and seated in the boat were dwarven singers playing on harps and around them sat others bearing torches. The boat slid silently through the black water and the torches reflected their fire upon its surface. The song was piercingly sad and the deep voices were full of memory and pain. Thorin had been out hunting that night with his father. They had looked up as the great wind from the wings of Smaug the Golden had swept over them. Then, suddenly, the resinous pine trees were on fire and the bells rang out from the town of Dale and the Mountain smoked beneath the moon. The people of Dale were screaming and trying to escape; the dwarves in the Lonely Mountain were being roasted alive, trapped within their halls. The song recounted the whole dreadful story and the voices of the dwarves were filled with grief as they testified to this most traumatic moment in dwarven history.

The boat slid gracefully across the lake and there was scarcely a ripple on its sleek surface. The harps played, the voices sang, the torches shone like dragon-fire until, at last, the boat, the torches and the singers' voices disappeared and faded behind the rocks on the far side of the lake. No-one moved; no-one stirred or uttered a word, not even the children. They sat in the blackness as if under a spell. Then, at last, the lamps were slowly lit again and Tauriel turned to Thorin and saw that his face was wet with tears.

No-one spoke on the way home. Tauriel held Thorin's arm and squeezed his hand and the children walked silently behind them. At the parting of the ways, Darri whispered goodbye to them and the children went quietly to bed when they reached their aunt's home. They had a profound sense of what they had witnessed, a living testament to the cruellest episode in their history, and there seemed no need for talking. Dis knew where they had all been and kissed her brother on his cheek. "I remember," she said.

"And I shall never forget," said Thorin.

Tauriel took him gently to bed and kissed him and held him softly in her arms. And she felt as if she now understood a little of that terrible moment in her husband's young life, how it must have affected him and how it had made him into the dangerous, brooding, vulnerable dwarf that he had become.

.o00o.

PT III

The next morning, Thorin was up and out before anyone else. "It's best to leave him on his own for a while," said Dis. "It always affects us for a day or so if we go to The Remembering."

Rose was distressed. "If I 'ad known it was all about the dragon and it was goin' to upset 'im, I wouldn't 'ave taken 'im. But Darri said it was good."

"Well, it is good," said Dis, gently. "It's good to remember and to think of our friends and everything that we lost."

"But you've got the Mountain back again and the dragon is dead," said Rose.

"Yes, and that's why it's important to remember. It would be easy to forget now that we've got our ancestral halls and treasure back. We didn't do this before but now we have a Remembering on a regular basis."

Rose still looked puzzled. "But I still don't understand why Darri said it was good when it was really sad."

"Sad and beautiful," said Dis. "And hasn't it helped you understand Thorin better now that you know what he has been through?"

Rose had to agree with this and even Arion, although only three, felt closer to his father.

Later that day, the children went to look for him and they found him sitting in a gully by the river where it made its exit, roaring and foaming, from the caves. They sat either side of him and leaned against him companionably and held his hand. And, in the end, he sighed and said, "Come on, you two, let's go home and have some food."

After a meal, he seemed to cheer up and he went off to talk to the masons and carpenters about repairs to the forge. Rose and Arion found where Darri and a group of other dwarf children were playing and tried to stir up some mischief.

.o00o.

Thorin had just come back from a successful meeting with the dwarf craftsmen when, suddenly, Darri came running into the house. "I've lost them! I can't find them!" he gasped, out of breath.

"Slow down," said Thorin, kneeling and holding Darri by the shoulders. "Who's lost?"

"Rose and Arion!" And Tauriel stepped forward at their names, suddenly very afraid.

"Catch your breath," said Thorin calmly, although his heart was pounding. Then Darri told them how they had all been playing hide and seek in the caverns and it had been Rose and Arion's turn. "We searched and searched but couldn't find them and when we called for them to come out, come out, wherever they were, they didn't come!" And he burst into tears.

"Right," said Dis, stepping forward. She had had plenty of experience of trying to find small children in the caves of the Lonely Mountain. "Thorin and Tauriel, you go with Darri so that he can show you where last he saw them. And take Dog with you – he may be able to sniff them out. I'll go and get together a search party and we'll catch up with you."

When Thorin and Tauriel reached the area where the children had been playing near The Remembering cavern, Thorin held items of the children's clothing under Dog's nose and said, "Find them, Dog! Find them!" although he held out little hope that their daft pet would cooperate. But Dog immediately began to snuffle on the ground, running backwards and forwards until he finally set off down one of the main tunnels. A short time later, they got to the place where half a dozen passages led off in different directions and Dog hesitated at the entrance to the dark, unlit corridor where the dwarves were investigating a new cave system. The path was blocked by a frail wicker fence to indicate that it was not an open route. "Yes," sighed Thorin. "Of course they went that way. Where else?"

They each took a spare lantern from among those stored in niches at regular intervals along the corridor and then they plunged into the darkness.

.o00o.

It was totally, completely, utterly black. It was a blackness you could touch. Rose thought at first that she had her eyes closed, but they were open. The lantern had gone out when the prop had cracked and the roof had caved in. She was still holding onto Arion's hand tightly. "Don't be afraid, Arion," she said.

"I'm not," he said. "But can we go home now?"

"I can't, Arion," she said and she tried to say it calmly. "There's somefink on me leg and I can't move. Do you fink you can find your way back and get Thorin and Tauriel to come and 'elp?"

There was a pause and then a tentative, "P'raps."

"You'll have to let go of me 'and, Arion, and find the wall and then feel your way along."

He slowly let go of her hand and a moment later said, "I've found the wall, Rose."

"Good boy," she said. "You might 'ave to climb over lots of stones but call back to me if you fink you've got past it."

A few minutes later, he called back from along the tunnel and she urged him: "Go on, Arion. Find Thorin. He'll get me out."

.o00o.

Dog's snuffles were getting more and more excited. Thorin held up his lantern and peered ahead into the dark. The further they got down the tunnel, the more difficult their progress became. In the end, the dwarves would make the route at least as tall as a man and wide enough for three to walk abreast but, at the moment, they were steadily trying to open up what had originally been no more than a wriggle hole. The passageway was currently still narrow and they had to crouch as they walked along. Their miners had propped the new passage with timbers but it was hard going and the floor was rocky. Probably a lot easier for two children, Thorin thought.

They turned a corner and Dog barked joyfully. There, edging his way down the tunnel towards them and blinking in the light cast by their lantern was Arion. Or, at least they thought it was Arion. His black hair was white with dust and the dust had also settled on his face like a mask. His wide, staring eyes and white skin made him look like a creature from the lower depths, one which had never seen the light of day. They all rushed forward with cries of gladness; Dog barked frantically and Darri whooped whilst Tauriel swept him up in her arms.

Arion seemed impatient with their displays of affection and concern for his welfare. He struggled out of Tauriel's arms and dashed back into the darkness of the tunnel. "Quick! Quick! Rose is hurt," he yelled. They followed him anxiously until they came to a section of the corridor where there was stone rubble half-blocking their route. And there was Rose, lying on the floor, with a broken pit prop pinning down her leg.

Thorin ran forward but Rose shouted in a sharp voice: "Stop! Don't move!" And he stopped. "Look," she said, glancing up at the ceiling. And when he looked, he saw that there was a crack which seemed to open even as he watched it. A shower of dust and fine stones sifted gently down on Rose; and the timber, which stretched from side to side of the roof and which was supposed to be holding it all up, was split and sagging in the middle. They could hear a faint creaking and groaning.

Thorin edged forward very, very gently. He positioned himself beneath the beam and then stood upright so that it was resting on his bent shoulders. With an effort, he thrust upwards and, groaning and cracking, the beam straightened. There was a sudden rush of tiny stones and then the creaking ceased. "Get her out," he grunted to Tauriel and Darri. The strain showed on his face. His legs were braced but a tremble ran through his whole body and the veins stood out on his neck.

Tauriel and Darri moved as quickly as possible, throwing rubble to one side and then dragging Rose clear from under the timber. Thorin was bathed in sweat and his muscles bulged and strained. "Now get them all out!" he gasped. "Once I let go of this beam, I think the whole lot will go."

Tauriel looked at Thorin in horror and anguish but she knew what she had to do. Darri took Arion by the hand and she lifted Rose in her arms. Slowly she backed down the corridor, her eyes fixed on Thorin, holding him with her gaze. "I love you," she said.

He couldn't answer. The effort was taking every breath. But the look he sent her said everything he felt for her.

They had just got to the bend in the tunnel and she prepared to take her last look at him when, suddenly, Dog began to bark frantically and around the corner came Dis with a band of dwarves. "We saw the wicker gate was down," she said. "We thought you must be here."

"Help him!" gasped Tauriel and the dwarves ran up to Thorin and, taking the weight from him, hastened to prop the roof with other beams. Tauriel handed Rose to Dis and turned to clasp Thorin in her arms as he stumbled forward. Together, the family emerged from the tunnels and, clutching, carrying and supporting each other, went home.

.o00o.

Rose's leg was not broken as they had feared, just badly bruised. She lay on her bed and gazed mournfully at everyone gathered around her. "You could have caused the death of your entire family," said Dis severely. Rose's face twisted in a grimace of guilt.

"I know," she whispered. "And if you want me to pack me bags and go then I will. I'm nothing but trouble, am I?"

Thorin sighed and sat on her bed and held her hand. "For better or worse – when are you going to understand that, Rose? Just try to think before you do anything next time, that's all." And he gave her a hug and Rose had a little weep.

"I knew you would come," she said.

"He always does," smiled Tauriel.

Then he turned to Arion who was lying on the adjacent bed. "And I suppose that, after that experience in the dark, we're never going to persuade you to sleep in your own room?"

"Oh, no," said Arion, "I'm not frightened of the dark any more. But I shan't be sleeping on my own."

His father raised an eyebrow. "And why not?"

"Because there are still monsters under the bed!" he replied with conviction.

.o00o.

Thorin and Tauriel lay side by side on the comfortable guest bed together and Thorin reached out to extinguish the lantern. "No, leave it lit," said Tauriel. "I want to look at you." She raised herself on her forearm and her eyes travelled greedily over his handsome face, absorbing every feature. She touched his hair softly. "I thought I would never see you again," she said and her voice trembled. He brushed his lips against hers and then pulled her onto his great chest. His lids fluttered shut and he groaned.

"No, open your eyes," she said.

They gazed at each other in the shadowy gloom, making love silently and passionately. Thorin could see the glint of tears in her eyes and felt them falling upon his face. He reached up to wipe them from her cheeks. "I'm here," he said. "I'm not going away."

But Tauriel knew that he would go away. And she lay in his arms when he slept and thought about the long years of immortality stretching out before her when she would be alone without him.

.o00o.


	10. Chapter 10 Thorin: An Unexpected Journey

In this story, Thorin and his family go back into the heart of Middle-earth. As the world opens up to them, will Arion and Rose see life – and Thorin - differently? Will Thorin keep his temper amongst all those elves? And what has driven them out into the big, wide world anyway? Hope you all enjoy accompanying Thorin on his unexpected journey.

.o00o.

THORIN AND AN UNEXPECTED JOURNEY

PT I

Thorin groaned when he woke up the next morning. He was still stiff, battered and bruised from the scrap with Lostwithiel and the fight with the orcs. And now, the strain of holding up the pit prop had not only pulled another set of muscles but his wounded arm had burst open and had bled all over the sheets during the night.

"Poor Thorin," murmured Tauriel, opening one eye, but since she immediately went back to sleep, he didn't feel that he was getting the sympathy that he deserved. He got up, got dressed and went to help Dis in the kitchen. Dis was too busy to offer him much sympathy either and the hero of the hour was feeling a bit under-appreciated.

The children and Dog rushed through the room. "Hello!" they shouted and disappeared out through the back door and into the cave system. "We're going out to play!" No considerate thoughts for his suffering from that quarter, then.

"And no hide and seek," he thought to yell after them.

He sat down to eat his breakfast and Tauriel had just appeared looking like she could do with a few more hours' sleep, when there was a knock at the door. On the step were standing two guards from the dwarven Council.

"The Council would like to see you and your wife in two hours," they said, looking rather stern. They would say no more and Thorin and Tauriel were left to wonder what the summons was all about.

"Perhaps they want to consult us about protecting the settlement," said Tauriel.

But, when they arrived at the Meeting Hall in one of the inner caverns, it was not what they expected at all. The whole Council had convened in full regalia and were sitting behind a long table. Thorin and Tauriel were not invited to sit down but were made to stand in front of them. The leader of the Council, an elderly dwarf called Malik, said to them, "We have called you here today on a very serious charge: just over two years ago, three men and three dwarves from this settlement were found dead by the side of the road less than a mile from here. They had injuries consistent with swords and axes. No-one knew how they had died, until yesterday." He gestured to a guard who opened a side door and into the room came the dwarven woman who, with the help of the other six, had tried to take Arion. Malik said: "Are these the two responsible for the deaths of the three men and the three dwarves?"

She looked at them sullenly. "Yes," she said.

Malik looked back to the dwarf and his wife. "Is what she says true?" he asked.

For a brief moment, Thorin considered what to say. Then he looked at Tauriel and back at Malik. "Yes," he said, "but I would ask the Council to hear what we have to say concerning the circumstances."

Malik nodded and then Thorin gestured to Tauriel that she begin. "When we were first betrothed," she said, "and we came to these halls, we were received very badly by some including those six who are dead and this dwarven woman. Moreover, at one time, after visiting Dis, this group threatened my son and called him an abomination who should have been killed at birth. Not long afterwards, they tried to kidnap my son and murder him and Thorin and I, in his and our own defence, were obliged to kill them."

Thorin stepped forward and put his arm around Tauriel. "It was seven against two. The woman had the child. My wife was being held by two of the men and had been dragged from her horse. You should know yourself that they were not helpless but were well-armed mercenaries and veterans." And he then turned angrily towards the woman: "And why have you only come forward now? You only incriminate yourself. Have you been promised a large sum of money by those who still hate us to bring this accusation?"

The woman shuffled her feet and refused to answer.

Malik looked gravely around the Council and then back to Thorin and Tauriel. "Thorin Oakenshield," he said, "most of us have known you for many years, even before that time when we were driven into exile from the Lonely Mountain. You have been our king and you have helped to win back our ancestral halls and treasure from the dragon, Smaug. We know you to be a great warrior and, even at this moment, you and your wife are helping to fight off the bands of orcs that threaten us here in Ered Luin. We hold you in high esteem and, furthermore, when you killed these men and dwarves, you only did what any other man or dwarf would have done. But..." and he leaned forward in his chair as he made ready to pass judgement.

Yes, sighed Thorin to himself, there's always a 'but'.

"...But, you have not only kept this incident to yourself, however justified, but you have still been responsible for 6 deaths...However..."

Good. Thorin was glad about the 'however'.

"...However, under the circumstances, we feel that you and your wife only deserve a token punishment."

Thorin heaved a sigh of relief.

"You are both exiled from Ered Luin for a period of 6 months. You have 48 hours in which to remove yourself from within our borders."

The Council uprose and swept out of the room but Thorin and Tauriel stood and faced each other in stunned silence. "It could have been worse," Thorin said finally.

.o00o.

The whole family assembled at Dis' house. "I suppose I could look after the children until you come back," she said. But Arion and Rose clung to Tauriel and Thorin and said that wherever the two of them went, then they would go too.

"Well," decided Thorin, I think that the best thing to do is to get out of Ered Luin and then decide where we're going from there. Let's have a vote on visiting Bilbo." And they all thought this a good idea and cheered up considerably. Arion knew nothing and Rose very little of the outside world and they began to feel quite excited at the prospect of visiting Bilbo about whom they had only ever heard stories.

"Bilbo went on an adventure with you, Thorin," said Rose, her eyes bright and shining, "and now perhaps we can go on one too. Perhaps we can fight with trolls and take their treasure."

"And visit Elrond and see the place where I was born,"added Arion.

"And visit Beorn and watch him change shape," shouted Rose.

"And fight with giant spiders," yelled Arion, jumping across the room and brandishing his wooden sword.

"And meet Thranduil in Mirkwood where you were a captain of the guard, Tauriel, and see the place where you shut up Thorin in a dungeon."

"And travel down the river in barrels to Lake Town!" hollered Arion on a grand flourish.

"Perhaps," said Thorin.

.o00o.

Well, there was no perhaps about it. They had to leave and leave soon; and so, within 24 hours, they were heading out of Ered Luin and on their way to The Shire. They left their keys with Dis and she said that she would arrange for the repairs to take place at the forge so that they had somewhere decent to come home to. She would also organise the delivery of Thorin's commissions. They only took two horses because Arion and Rose were not, as yet, competent riders, especially over the long distances that they would have to travel. The children took turns riding with Tauriel and Thorin whilst Dog came trotting behind.

Bilbo's face expressed feelings beyond delight when he opened the door to them. He was particularly thrilled to see the children. "He must be mad," said Thorin as Bilbo bustled happily around in the kitchen, getting together sandwiches, tea and cake. "Once he knows what our two are like, he'll regret letting them even over his threshold."

But Bilbo hit it off with Arion and Rose straight away. His relaxed and genial manner, his exciting stories about the great adventure that he had gone on with Thorin, the pleasure that he seemed to take in their company and his wonderful home all contributed to make him the best person the children had ever met.

"And was the dragon the most frightingest dragon you had ever seen?" asked Arion, wide-eyed with excitement and stuffing the second slice of cake down his throat.

"Oh, definitely the most frightingest," replied Bilbo with equanimity. "In fact, he was the ONLY dragon I had ever seen."

"Oh, I would love to meet a dragon!" the little boy breathed. "I would fight him and kill him with my sword!" And he waved around the little wooden sword that Rose had stolen for him in the market place.

"But, the only way to kill a dragon," put in Thorin, "is to find the secret, unarmoured place, like Bilbo did. We couldn't have killed Smaug without him." And, suddenly, the children had a new hero and Thorin wondered if he had been too generous in his praise. For the whole time that they were there, it was "Bilbo this" and "Bilbo that". They ran around after him begging for stories about his adventure and, whenever Thorin tried to make a contribution, they would just say in a bored voice: "Oh, we already know that. You told us that before."

Thorin felt quite upset. "I'm not their hero any more," he sighed to Tauriel, as they lay in bed together.

"Don't be silly," said Tauriel. "You'll always be their hero. It's just that their world is opening up for them. They'll be meeting a lot of people to admire on this trip and you won't hear the last of them. Can you imagine how amazed they'll be when they meet Beorn?" She rested her chin on his chest and ran her hands slowly down his plaits, looking up at him seductively. "But you'll always be my hero, Thorin," she said in a throaty whisper. And then she kissed his muscled shoulder and caressed his face and showed him how much she appreciated his heroic qualities.

.o00o.

PT II

They all spent a wonderful three weeks with Bilbo. The children and Dog enjoyed running around Hobbiton, playing with the hobbit children and trying hard to keep out of mischief. They adored Bag End with its child-sized rooms and quaint appearance. Even Thorin liked being in the house because it was built into a hill and felt quite dwarven. Tauriel loved wandering around the village, admiring the trees and the gardens full of flowers and vegetables and fruit. "You'll have to make me a vegetable patch when we get home," she told Thorin.

But, in the end, they decided to move on towards Mirkwood, perhaps even the town of Dale. "We'll see you on the way back, Bilbo," said Tauriel. And the little hobbit didn't seem too aghast at the thought.

Their next stop was Rivendell. They ambled along at a steady pace and the children were full of excitement when, on the way, they had a picnic in a leafy glade where the three trolls had been turned to stone. There they still were, although now looking not half as fearsome as they had been in real life, particularly since birds were nesting behind their ears.

"Tell us, Thorin, what Gandalf said as the dawn came," remarked Rose for the fiftieth time.

"Yes, but first tell us how the trolls wanted to eat you all," said Arion gleefully. "And don't forget to do all the voices!" So, Thorin told the story once more and did all the voices. "And then Gandalf shouted: 'Dawn take you all, and be stone to you!' And they turned into stone. We were rescued just in the nick of time."

"Didn't you ever do any rescuing on this adventure, Thorin?" asked Rose, as if doubting his heroic qualities once more.

"Of course he did," put in Tauriel quickly. "Lots of times." But Thorin saw the dubious look in their eyes.

When they reached Rivendell, Elrond greeted them with joy. He was delighted to see Arion who had been so beautiful at birth and was still an exceptionally lovely child. "Just like your father," he said, picking up the boy and grinning at Thorin. He understood more than most in Middle-earth what it was like to belong neither to one race nor another and he was delighted that this child of mixed race looked set fair to be an admirable example of the union. He was also pleased to meet Rose. "She could almost be your daughter, you know," he said. "Not that I'm implying anything, mind you."

"I know you're not," said Thorin. "But, let me tell you, when I first met Rose and Tauriel said something like that, I was really annoyed. Now I'm more than happy to claim her as my own."

"Because no-one else will claim me," said the cheeky Rose, who had overheard the conversation. And she looked quite pleased to be claimed by Thorin.

The children were very, very well-behaved in Rivendell. Perhaps it was because the elves were so kind to them or perhaps they were in awe of Elrond or perhaps it was the special, magical atmosphere there. "Do you know," said Tauriel, "I wonder if my pregnancy was successful because I spent most of it here? There is such a peace and time passes in such a strange way. We've been here more than a week and yet it only seems like a day or two. It certainly didn't feel as if I waited a year for you when I was pregnant with Arion."

"It felt like a hundred years to me," said Thorin, turning towards her on the pillow and kissing the tips of her fingers.

"Well, I could say," laughed Tauriel, "'and whose fault is that?' But I'll be kind and I won't."

"Yes," growled Thorin, wriggling in closer to her. "Please be kind to me. I really feel like a lot of kindness at this precise moment." And he gave her his little boy look that she couldn't resist.

Rose and Arion loved the place even more than Bag End. They spent most of their time with the elves who told them stories of Middle-earth from the first and second age; they sang them beautiful songs and recited delightful poetry to them. Arion discovered his elven side and felt very comfortable there but so did Rose. "I fink I could be an elf," she said, twirling around in a pretty dress that she had been given. "I like livin' in trees and I like their stories and songs."

She disappeared off with Elrond every afternoon. "Don't you want to come on a picnic with me?" asked Thorin.

"No," she said, "I'm doin' somefink – something – much more important."

"And what's more important than coming out and having fun and food with me?" Thorin wheedled.

"Elrond's teaching me to read and write and speak proper – properly – just like wot 'e does," she replied. And the posh accent that she adopted in imitation of Elrond meant that she no longer sounded like Rose to him. "I could have done that," he said grumpily. Rose lifted a doubting eyebrow.

But, the days passed in a delightful blur and Thorin and Tauriel had not been so happy in a long time. They spent many hours walking together, hand in hand, sometimes amid the trees and flowers and sunshine and sometimes in the purple twilight just as the stars started to glitter in the sky. Under a full moon, they stood on a bridge that spanned a silvery stream and Thorin held her hands to his breast and looked into her eyes. "I think I have fallen in love with you all over again," he said.

"Oh dear," she teased gently. "Does that mean that you had fallen OUT of love with me?"

"No," he said, brushing his lips tenderly across hers. "It means that every morning when I wake up and see you lying next to me on the pillow, I can't believe that you are there. And every night when I go to bed, I think I cannot love you any more than I do at that moment, but every morning, I find out differently." His mouth covered hers and his arms slid around her and held her tightly to his breast. "Never leave me," he said.

"Never, my love," she breathed, winding her fingers tightly in his dark hair.

.o00o.

"Well," said Elrond after nearly a month as he got ready to say goodbye to them all, "has the exiled dwarf in exile enjoyed his stay?"

"Definitely," said Thorin. "It's been a good excuse for a holiday really. Bring on Beorn and Mirkwood!"

"Yay! Beorn!" cheered Rose and Arion. And if excitement could make small children burst, they would have burst.

They crossed the Misty Mountains with no mist or unwanted storms to hinder them at all. The good weather held and the views from the higher slopes, looking behind them to The Shire and before them to Mirkwood, Erebor and beyond, were spectacular. They came down into the valleys, crossed a ford and finally came to a grove of oak trees. There were flowers everywhere as if planted rather than growing naturally and, at last, they knew they were in Beorn's domain. The children were intrigued to see large bee-hives everywhere and Dog was pleased when a group of friendly grey dogs came running to greet him. And, there, at last, was Beorn's large wooden house and there was Beorn sitting on his terrace.

"Tell us more about Beorn," they had asked Thorin as they rode over the mountains. "What's a shape-shifter?"

"Well, he's also called a skin-changer," responded Thorin, "because he can change the way he looks. He is a huge man – just you wait till you see him – and he changes into a giant black bear. Don't you go playing your tricks on him because he has a bear's temper and he loses it very quickly and then you'll be sorry."

"More bad-tempered than you?" Rose asked in amazement. "I don't believe that." And she giggled.

"I was glad of that temper at the Battle of the Five Armies," continued Thorin. "He rescued me from the battlefield and his ferocity and fury helped rout the goblin army."

"So, you were rescued again," said Rose.

Thorin didn't answer.

Beorn stood up from his terrace and the children gawped as he towered above them. He greeted them heartily, invited them in and provided the weary travellers with food and drink. But, they only stayed for a few days. There was something amazing but also strange about Beorn. Rose and Arion sat in silent awe most of the time and everyone felt that they had to be careful what they said in case they gave offence. But Beorn was genuinely pleased to see Tauriel and Thorin once more, to meet their children and to hear all the news that they brought with them from the West. When he heard about the orc raids and how Thorin was tackling them, he nodded and grunted in agreement but the children lay awake at night listening to the bear-man snuffling about the house and they found it all quite frightening.

It was with a certain relief that they waved goodbye to him and set out on the last stage of their journey along the protected elf-road that led through the forest of Mirkwood to the elf-king's palace.

.o00o.

PT III

They felt safe on the elf-made path that ran through Mirkwood. It was protected by elven spells from the dangerous, giant spiders that lurked in the forest. They caught brief glimpses of these creatures flitting between the trees and those glimpses were close enough.

"Yuck!" said Arion. "You and the other dwarves were almost killed by them, weren't you, father?"

"But then Tauriel came along and saved them from starvation and death," added Rose.

"Well," grunted Thorin in a slightly annoyed voice, "I wouldn't say she exactly saved me, not when Thranduil intended to throw me into his dungeons for a hundred years."

They were all bedding down for the night on the elf-road and Tauriel reached over to him and patted his arm.

"But, just think," she said cajolingly, recognising the grumpy tone that was beginning to appear in his voice, "if it hadn't been for that, I might never have fallen in love with you."

"Oh, yes," said Rose sleepily, "tell us again how you first met at the forge, Tauriel, and how you chained Thorin up to that pillar and left him there. I like that one."

Thorin didn't. He pulled his cloak up to his ears and tried to block out the children's giggles as Tauriel told her tale.

.o00o.

When they approached the gates of Thranduil's palace the next day, the guards recognised Thorin and Tauriel at once and they were escorted to the elven king's apartments. Thranduil swept across the room and, clasping Tauriel in his arms, firmly kissed her on the mouth.

"Why is that man kissing my mummy like that?" whispered Arion to Thorin.

Thorin's fists tightened and his knuckles whitened but he replied calmly: "Because that's what the Mirkwood elves do, Arion."

"Bit of a funny old goin'-on, if you ask me," muttered Rose.

"Well, no-one did ask you," said Thorin tersely. But he derived some small satisfaction from the knowledge that he wasn't the only one to be annoyed by Thranduil's behaviour.

Then Thranduil turned to Thorin. "Good to see you," he said, grasping Thorin by the shoulders, "even if you have stolen my favourite lady away from me." And his eyes twinkled. "And who is this?" he asked bending down and smiling at Arion. "You must be Tauriel's son and what a fine-looking young man you are!" And then he turned to Rose. "Ah, the beautiful Rose. Tauriel has told me all about you." And he bent over her hand and kissed it. For the first time in her life, Rose blushed. She wasn't quite sure that she liked all this courtly flattery and hand-kissing stuff.

There followed a brief argument. They were offered rooms in the caves (Thorin's choice) or in the trees (everyone else's). Thorin was outnumbered and Thranduil showed them to a beautiful tree-house overlooking the river. Dog sat on the gound beneath, looking up at them pathetically, having no skill in climbing rope ladders. You'll have to winch him up and down in the supplies basket," laughed Thranduil and the children spent the next hour practising this, much to the animal's long-suffering displeasure.

That evening, when they ate in the Great Hall, they were the centre of attention. The elves were pleased to see Tauriel back again, particularly the men who had been in Thranduil's guard when she had been their captain; they wondered at the beauty of Arion and wondered even more that his father was a dwarf; they were kind to and interested in Rose; and looked warily at Thorin whom they had fought alongside in battle but whom they were having trouble accepting as Tauriel's husband. When he saw their looks, Thorin sighed to himself. Not again, he thought. Would it always be a struggle to find acceptance?

After the food, there was some entertainment – singing, poetry, story-telling and dancing. Thranduil turned to Tauriel and asked: "Would you dance for us, Tauriel? It's been so long since we've seen you." Tauriel smiled and went over to the musicians to consult with them. Then some of the candles and torches were extinguished so that the hall flickered in a mysterious semi-darkness, the harpists touched their strings and Tauriel began to dance.

Neither Thorin nor the children had seen Tauriel dance before. She seemed to float around the room; her hair moved in a shining mass about her shoulders, her beautiful dress wrapping itself around her at one moment then drifting free at another; her arms moved sinuously and her body curved and twisted to the exquisite music. She was like a tree blowing in the wind, thought Thorin. Her execution was delicate and flawless and, when the dance finally came to an end, Thorin realised that he was holding his breath. He let it out with a long sigh and the room applauded.

"Cor!" said Rose, her eyes alight.

"I didn't know my mummy could do that," said Arion.

"Neither did I," murmured Thorin.

Thranduil led her to a seat as the feast broke up and people began to move around the room. "That was truly lovely, Tauriel, "he said. "Thank you." He glanced over at Thorin who was now drinking and glowering in a corner. "I'd give you a kiss again," he said with a grin, "but your husband is still finding some things difficult to stomach."

"Yes," sighed Tauriel, "but it is the jealousy of dwarves. He has certainly tried hard these past few years, but he still sometimes sees me as his possession that he needs to guard from other men. It was only a few months ago that he got into a fight with Lostwithiel."

"No!" laughed Thranduil. "Poor Lostwithiel! I would give anything to have seen that!" But then he became more serious. "You know I was just teasing him a little that night of my feast at the Grey Havens," the elf king said. "But it all ended in disaster and you nearly lost the father of your child. I am sorry for the pain that I caused you both." He glanced at Thorin again. "Perhaps I should keep away from you so as not to cause any more trouble."

Tauriel studied her hands for a moment. "It wasn't your teasing but Thorin's uncontrollable jealousy that caused the pain," she said. "Unless he learns to face it and then cope with it, there is always a chance that a disaster will happen again. He wants us to change our elven culture and behaviour so that he doesn't have to deal with things. I can't help but think we should continue as normal and I shall help Thorin handle the situation when and if the need arises. He talks to me so much more now."

"Ah well, in that case," said Thranduil, "I shall give in to my elven culture." And he leant forward and kissed her gently on the lips.

On the other side of the room, Thorin, Rose and Arion all glared in a disapproving way from under three sets of black brows.

That night, Thorin and Tauriel lay in bed in their tree house. The wind was blowing and the whole room was swaying. Thorin gripped hold of the mattress. Tree houses were unnatural in his opinion.

"Did you enjoy yourself tonight?" asked Tauriel.

"I enjoyed your dancing," said Thorin pointedly, turning to hold onto his wife rather than the mattress. "You were stunning. You'll have to give me a private performance when we get home."

"And how did you feel about Thranduil kissing me?" Tauriel pursued. "Was it easier this time, knowing that he isn't my lover?"

"I was fine with it," said Thorin airily, lying in his teeth. "But, I think the children were a little unhappy."

"Really?" said Tauriel but she felt content enough with his response.

Thorin felt the need to get away from Mirkwood.

.o00o.

The next morning, Thorin took Arion down to a shallow pool by the side of the river. "I shall teach you how to swim," he said, and Arion looked pleased. "He's making good progress," he told Tauriel when they came home later. And Thorin also thought how much pleasure it had given him to be alone with Arion, showing him how to do important things.

That evening, he was feeling in a much better mood and tried to enjoy the elven food and entertainment. As everyone left the table and floated to different corners of the room, the great doors of the Hall were suddenly swung back and a group of athletic-looking young elves entered the Hall. Soldiers, by the way they carry themselves, thought Thorin. And they reminded him of Tauriel's outfit back up in the hills of Ered Luin. The leader of the group was strikingly handsome and he swept across the room towards Thranduil. "Father!" he said, taking the elf king in a bear hug and kissing him.

"Legolas!" exclaimed Thranduil in delight. "I didn't expect to see you for a few days yet."

"We've just been relieved," said Legolas. "And we've run out of spiders and goblins to kill." The courtiers gathered around him, eager for news and laughing. He looked up and glanced about him, suddenly seeing Tauriel smiling on the fringes of the room. "Tauriel!" he cried in delight. And the young elf lord made his way swiftly towards her. He seized her hands then flung his arms around her, lifting and whirling her around and kissing her soundly.

On the mouth, of course, thought Thorin. And the jealous spasm that ran through him was almost beyond his control. Tauriel's eyes were shining and she pulled Legolas over towards her family, her arm tightly entwined around his waist. "This is Legolas!" she said in an excited voice.

"So I gathered," said Thorin and his voice was cold and dry. The elf lord noticed both his tone and his look. He stepped forward so that Tauriel's grip dropped from his waist and said calmly: "She was nearly my mother, you know. She was so kind to me when I was a child after my own mother died and I always hoped that she and my father would get married." He turned towards her and took her gently by both hands again. "After my father, she is the most important person to me on Middle-earth." And he bent over her hands in a graceful bow and then returned to his companions. With bright eyes and a quick word of excuse, Tauriel followed him.

"Well," said Arion grumpily, "I don't kiss my mother like that."

"And she's OUR mother, not his," added Rose sourly.

Thorin tried to rationalise things. Although Legolas and Tauriel looked the same age, she must be hundreds of years older and would remember him as a child. He probably still seemed like a child to her and she must have many happy memories – and sad ones – from that time when she had helped to look after him. Yes, he was only a little lad to her and that's the way she treated him and felt about him.

But, said the other voice in his head, she's hundreds of years older than you, too, and does she treat you like a little lad? Absolutely not!

And Thorin struggled manfully with these opposing voices – and he wasn't helped by the jealous complaining of the children. But, he did his best and tried to explain to them in rational tones what Legolas must mean to Tauriel and what Tauriel must mean to Legolas. He seemed to have made some headway when he saw them both chatting, apparently quite amiably, to the handsome elf later in the evening and he even managed to exchange a civil word or two with him himself.

.o00o.

PT IV

By the time they got up the next morning, Thorin and Tauriel found that the children were already winching Dog down to the ground. "We're going out with the elves," they said. "We shan't be back until late this afternoon."

"What about your swimming lesson, Arion?" Thorin called down to him.

"Oh, another time," he called back and scampered off.

"Well, goodness," said Tauriel, "a whole day to ourselves. What shall we do?" And she raised a suggestive eyebrow.

"Hmmm, you've really got me stumped there," he murmured in his deep, velvety voice. "But, how about a lie-in and a late breakfast for starters whilst we think about it?" And he pulled her to him and kissed her.

And, as he hauled up the rope ladder, he had to admit to himself that perhaps there were some advantages to living in a tree.

Tauriel and Thorin enjoyed their day although they occasionally stopped to wonder what the children were up to. Rose and Arion were also obviously having a good time too because they didn't get home until early evening when it was nearly time to eat.

"Goodness!" said Tauriel. "Where have you two been? I was just about to send out a search party." The children were excited, dirty and dishevelled. "We've been with Legolas," said Rose, and her eyes sparkled.

Thorin's head snapped up. "With Legolas? But I didn't think you liked him."

"Oh, we like him now," said Arion. "I even wish he WERE my big brother because he's so much fun."

"Yes," said Rose, "we spent all morning with him learning to ride a horse and all afternoon learning to shoot a bow – and they've loaned us these long, elf bows."

"Much nicer than those short, stumpy dwarven bows like you use," added Arion. Thorin felt hurt and he didn't know quite why. Was it because Arion was rejecting the dwarf bow in favour of the elf one and did this signify a rejection of the whole side of him that was dwarven? Was it because he had already taught Rose and Arion the basics of horse-riding and they were dismissing his tuition out of hand? Or was it because Legolas was their teacher? He loomed large in their conversation and, when they went to eat in the Great Hall, both children were on the look-out for him and then ran to sit next to him when he made an appearance. Rose, in particular, seemed to gaze at him quite starry-eyed.

"I think," said Tauriel, "watching in amusement, "that Rose is experiencing her first crush."

"A crush? But she's only nine!" exclaimed Thorin.

"Well, how old were you?" asked Tauriel. And Thorin remembered Kagris. But that only made him even angrier.

For a whole week, the situation continued with both Legolas and his men spoiling the two children and making themselves heroes in their eyes. In the end, Thorin could stand it no longer. "I need a break," he growled to Tauriel one evening. "Let's visit Dale and the Lonely Mountain...and let's set off tomorrow."

Dale had been utterly destroyed by Smaug but, since the death of the dragon, the town had been rebuilt by the dwarven masons and the men whilst Lake Town, which had gone up in flames during Smaug's final rampage, was now largely abandoned. Both Tauriel and Thorin were skilled in the handling of boats, having grown up near water, and they decided to travel down-river and across the Lake to Dale using a boat as transport. There had been heavy rain on and off for some weeks now and the river was boiling. The children found that this river-trip proved to be the most exciting part of their adventure yet and soon Legolas and Mirkwood were forgotten and left far behind them.

When they emerged from the river and into the Long Lake, they could see that Lake Town was now merely a group of huts and shanties. They didn't pause, but headed out for the far side of the great sheet of water towards Dale and the Lonely Mountain. The newly-built town impressed them all. It was constructed of white stone in the Numenorean style by the dwarven masons. There were squares and fountains and bell-towers and flowers everywhere. Dale was a great trading post at a crossroads of many races and cultures and Thorin and Tauriel were accepted without a single raised eyebrow. They rested comfortably there for a number of days, walking by the lake, exploring the streets, eating at the fine inns; and Thorin resumed his swimming lessons with Arion.

The only disturbing thing to happen was when a man recognised Thorin and called to his fellows: "Look! The true King under the Mountain has returned!" A crowd began to gather and the family quickly made their exit.

"I think," said Thorin, "that I'd like to visit Dain and all my old companions and then we should return to Mirkwood before something blows up."

They rented horses and made their way up the side of the Mountain to the Great Gate. The dwarves welcomed them with tremendous excitement and hospitality. The children wondered at the spectacular dwarven halls and at the huge jewel, the Arkenstone, the Heart of the Mountain, set in a niche above Dain's throne. Thorin remembered when this stone had meant more to him than anything on Middle-earth but, now, he realised that Tauriel and Arion and Rose were dearer to his heart than any lump of glittering mineral and that he would not exchange them for a thousand Arkenstones.

They feasted and drank and made merry that night and Arion discovered his dwarven side. They all laughed and jested and sang and they felt so much at home that they knew they would be sorry when they had to leave. But, after several days, Balin came to Thorin and Tauriel and said sadly: "You know that you have our love and we know that we have yours but, when you have given so much away, it is sometimes impossible to go back." He paused for a moment and then said: "There is talk in the town and there are always fools who are prepared to make trouble."

"I know," sighed Thorin.

Balin patted him on the shoulder. "Well, if it is impossible for you to visit us, then we shall visit you."

Thorin smiled and they all embraced and, the next day, they set out on horseback for Mirkwood after many sad partings. "I think I liked the Lonely Mountain best of all," said Arion.

They had been away from Ered Luin for four months now and intended only to stay a few days in Mirkwood before setting off on the homeward journey. On the last night, Thranduil held a feast for them. Tauriel and Rose put on their prettiest dresses and received many fine compliments. Thorin decided that he was coping very well with all the attention that Tauriel was receiving, but then the musicians began to play and the dancing began. Many elf lords came forward to ask Tauriel if they could lead her into a dance and Thorin found himself drinking and glowering more and more. The children, too, became grumpier.

"Why don't you dance with mummy?" Arion asked.

"Because I can't dance," replied Thorin sullenly.

With relief, he heard the last dance of the evening announced. Legolas was consulting with the musicians and he then put his head together with his young company of men, glancing in Thorin's direction as he did so. He came over and politely asked permission to take Tauriel onto the floor. It'll soon be over, he thought to himself, and he watched moodily as Legolas led his wife forward to make up a long set. All the elves in Tauriel's set were the handsome young lords who were soldiers in Legolas' patrol group. All twenty of them formed a line and all their ladies faced them. The musicians struck up a pretty, tripping tune and they danced in pairs up and down the row. And then they changed partners. But before the change took place, they kissed their partners and moved on to the next.

Thorin sat bolt upright. During the course of the dance, after Tauriel had worked her way down the group and then back up again, she would have been kissed forty times. And those young lordlings were certainly entering into the spirit of the thing with enthusiasm. Could he handle this, he wondered?

And then a number of things happened at once. Legolas looked across the room straight at him and he was laughing. He was being deliberately provocative, Thorin thought. And then Arion said, "I don't like this dance." And then Rose said: "If Tauriel was my wife, I wouldn't be sitting 'ere and just takin' it." And she stood up and said to Thorin: "So what you gonna do about it?"

And then Thorin stood up and cracked his knuckles.

The interesting thing was, it was Arion who led the fray. He scuttled across the room and kicked Tauriel's current beau in the ankle and, as the elf lost his balance, Rose punched him in the stomach and, as he bent over, he came into contact with Thorin's fist and sprawled on the floor. Suddenly, the hall was a mass of violent action. Arion darted around kicking every ankle he could find and Rose used her street-wise skills to startling effect and Thorin's fist connected with every elven chin that came within hitting distance. By the time the music had ground to a halt, twenty elf lords, including Legolas, were prostrate and groaning. Thorin rubbed his bruised fists and looked very pleased with himself. Then he took Tauriel by one hand and Rose took the other and Arion held onto her skirt. "Come on," he said. "I think we've still got some packing to do."

Back in the tree house, Tauriel tried to look severe but burst out laughing. "Oh, you three did take them by surprise," she said. "And perhaps they deserved it for teasing you."

But Thorin and the children weren't so easily pacified. "Tauriel," he said, "ever since I met you, I have been trying to understand elven ways and I have been trying to change my nature in order to fit in with them. But when," he continued angrily, "are you going to understand dwarven ways and come at least half-way to meet me? I just feel that you and Thranduil and Legolas – in fact, every damn elf in this place – have been going out of their way to push me to my limit – and beyond."

Arion and Rose glared at her. "Sometimes, if you're a dwarf," said Arion, with pride in his origins, "you just want to sort things out by giving them a punch on the nose." And he bunched his little fist.

"Yeah! I agree," said Rose. "And I'm not even a dwarf!"

Thorin took Tauriel's face between his hands and said: "Don't you love me enough to give me just a bit of leeway?"

At this, Rose and Arion flung their arms around his waist and cried: "We love you! We love you!"

And Tauriel took him gently by his plaits and said: "And I love you too and I'm very, very sorry." And then they kissed and the children cheered.

.o00o.

The next day, Thranduil came to bid them farewell. He apologised, too, with a wry grin. "You three certainly are a force to be reckoned with," he said, looking with amusement at Thorin and the children. "You managed to lay low a crack team and they're still groaning this morning."

He accompanied them to their horses and then he clapped Thorin on the shoulder, kissed the children on their foreheads, patted Dog on the head and moved towards Tauriel.

"No kissing," snarled Thorin.

"As if I would," smiled Thranduil. And he put his arms around her and gave her a most chaste hug.

.o00o.

.


	11. Chapter 11 Thorin Has A Think

Thorin and his family return home to Ered Luin at last. What will they find when they get there? Has Thorin changed in any way? Does he see things differently and is it time for a bit of a brood?

.o00o.

THORIN HAS A THINK

PT I

There were still two months left of their exile when Thorin Oakenshield and his family set out for Ered Luin and so they went at a gentle pace. It didn't take them long to reach Beorn's house on the far side of Mirkwood where they only stayed a couple of nights, but they all wondered why Thorin was huddled secretively in a corner with the giant shape-shifter during the evening.

"'Ere! What you two up to?" asked Rose curiously.

"Aha!" said Thorin, laying his finger alongside his nose, but looking rather pleased with himself they all thought. "That's for me to know and for you to find out."

And the next morning, they did, indeed, find out. Thorin had been negotiating with Beorn for a pair of his ponies. There was a blue roan for Arion and a grey for Rose. "It's called a rose grey," Thorin laughed. "Beorn thought it a suitable colour for you."

The children wouldn't have cared what colour the ponies were. They were so ecstatic that they went around starry-eyed all day. In the end, Beorn waved away all offers of payment. "When you grow out of them," he growled, "I'll exchange them for larger ones. Perhaps that will give you a reason to visit me again." And the children climbed upon his lap and kissed and hugged him. Suddenly this giant of a man no longer seemed someone to be afraid of. Beorn, in the meanwhile, appeared very pleased with this show of gratitude and affection.

"Cupboard love," grunted Thorin with amusement to Tauriel.

After his experience in Mirkwood, Thorin was determined that no-one else was going to teach his children how to ride. They ambled along at a slow enough pace with plenty of picnic stops so that the children didn't get too tired or saddle-sore. They stopped regularly for riding instruction and also for practice with their new bows, yet another parting gift from Beorn. These were small and dwarven in style, accompanied by beautifully worked leather quivers which held a good stock of arrows. The children felt as though all their birthdays had come at once and they proudly carried their new weapons on their shoulders.

Now that they owned a dwarven bow each, the children suddenly did an about-face over their desirability. "The elven bows are long and difficult to carry," said Arion.

"Yeah," said Rose. "They may look good and they may shoot arrows a long way, but the dwarven bow is more accurate. It really packs a punch and I reckon that the arrows could pierce armour."

Thorin gave a quiet and satisfied smile and Tauriel grinned when she saw it.

And so they ambled along. The weather held and, as with their outward journey, they had no problems climbing over the Misty Mountains with the two little ponies putting up a very good showing. There had been a long debate about what their names should be and this had helped pass many, many miles. In the end, Arion insisted on calling his pony Blue. He was the one who had decided that they should call their dog Dog.

"Not very imaginative," said Thorin.

"But I like it," said Arion.

"Fair enough," said Thorin and so Blue it was.

Rose had a bit more difficulty and spent many a restless night tussling with a whole variety of names. In the end, she chose Little Beorn in memory of the giver.

"That's a nice thought," said Tauriel but Thorin snorted a bit.

"Well," said Rose, "since Tauriel calls her horse Black Demon when you're around and Thorin when you're not, I don't see why I can't name my pony after someone I know too."

"Fair enough," said Thorin again with a grin.

After a month, they were nearing Rivendell and Elrond's Last Homely House. The children were excited to be seeing the elf-lord again and Thorin and Tauriel were looking forward to sleeping in a bed.

Rose ran forward to meet the elf-lord. Because of the daily lessons she had had with him, she was closer to him than Arion. Thorin had no real desire to teach her reading and writing or how to talk "proper" and his other lessons made him content with his lot. "Elrond! Elrond!" cried Rose, as soon as she saw him approaching. "Come and 'ave a look at our ponies." He raised an eyebrow and she repeated: "Come and HAVE a look at our ponies."

"Good," said Elrond. "I'm glad you haven't forgotten everything while you've been away."

Elrond dutifully admired the ponies and then they all sat down for food and a chat. They talked well into the night, until the children were fast asleep on their parents' laps, and then they took them to their rooms.

"A proper bed at last!" sighed Tauriel as they sank beneath their own coverlets. They were in the lovely room where Thorin had found her after being separated for a year. It held many bittersweet memories for them both. He remembered the joy of their reunion and he remembered Arion being born there and he remembered the pain of his guilt for the way he had treated his beautiful elven wife. He drew in a breath with a shudder, thinking of how things might have been if Bilbo hadn't visited and talked some sense into him. And then he let the breath out in a long sigh, drawing Tauriel tenderly towards him.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She ran her hands slowly down his plaits and looked questioningly into his eyes. "Sorry for what?" she asked with a smile. "Is there something you're keeping from me?"

"Oh," he sighed, "sorry for being a jealous dwarf, sorry for being stupid and bad-tempered, sorry for being me."

She caressed his face gently. "Yes," she said, "you are stupid: stupid for saying sorry for all the things that I love about you." And she lowered her head and brushed her lips tantalisingly across his throat. He groaned and slipped his hand through her hair, pulling her mouth against his own. With exquisite sensitivity, his tongue slid between her lips, gently exploring and touching. He was so tentative, Tauriel thought, almost as if he expected rejection, as if he expected her to remember his cruelty to her and to push him away. She seized his plaits more tightly and kissed him back passionately so that he shuddered with desire. "Tauriel..." he whispered. She knew he was asking for her love but was too uncertain of himself to take it. How strange he was, how vulnerable. It was so easy to destroy his confidence and, in this room where so many painful and joyous things had taken place, Tauriel felt that she had to tread carefully. She ran her hands across his back feeling all the muscles rippling there.

"Thorin," she said softly, "you're so beautiful. Do you know how much I need you at this moment?" And she pressed herself against him and kissed his throat again. He let out an inarticulate cry and pulled her beneath him. His love-making that night was such a curious mixture of passionate giving and desperate taking that Tauriel felt confused as to how she should react to him. And so she just held him and kissed him and murmured her love in his ear until he finally fell asleep. But Tauriel lay awake for a long time afterwards wondering what more she could do to help her husband with the confusions and doubts about himself that so easily ran through his mind.

The next morning, Thorin woke up early. Tauriel was nestled in his arms and he lay there, gazing out at the trees moving gently beyond the wide balcony window. He began to do the thing that he did worst of all: thinking. When they had stayed in this room on their outward journey, it had reminded him of all the wonderful things that had happened there during the six weeks surrounding Arion's birth: their declaration of love, the birth of his son, their wedding night, Tauriel's beauty and forgiveness. Now, after five months out in the wide world, mixing with hobbits, elves and men, he was seeing things in a different light.

He was so selfish, he thought. He had wanted Tauriel and he had taken her without any thought to the consequences. Since their exile, he had seen her in her own environment, both at Rivendell and Mirkwood, and he now realised just how much she had given up to be with him. He just couldn't offer her the beauty, the elegant company, the excitement, the poetry, the music, nor any of the other things that were hers by right. What could he, in fact, offer her – or even the children – living as they did in isolation at his forge? It must be so boring for her with no other adult except himself to converse with – and what did he talk about except making farm equipment and swords? The lively, clever conversations of the elves that he had been a party to these past few months really made him aware of his inadequacies in the exchange of thoughts, opinions and feelings. No wonder she escaped once a week to be up at the outpost with her group of fellow elves.

And, what pain and trouble he had brought her ever since he had first met her. He went through every incident, torturing himself with every word he had said to her, every dreadful deed and misunderstanding that should never have happened because he was just so stupid. Even Tauriel called him a stupid dwarf. He had allowed his passion for her to get the better of him in Lake Town and he had slept with her that one time, only to reject her cruelly after she had saved his life during the great battle, sending her away, back to Mirkwood. Perhaps he should have held his ground at that point and not given into his lusts when she had come looking for him. Her life back in Mirkwood would have been a lot better than the one he offered her at the forge. But, no, he had been selfish again without giving any thought at all to the problems he might be creating for her.

Then he had misinterpreted everything he saw, both at Thranduil's court and at the Grey Havens and this had led him to do the most appalling thing of all – he could hardly bear to think of it! He had made love to her both as a punishment and also because he had found it almost impossible to let her go. And afterwards, what cruel words he had uttered as he had marched out the door of the forge, flinging their betrothal rings into the flames as he went. He could scarcely believe what he had done, even now. He had imagined her living in Mirkwood with Thranduil, tormenting himself with thoughts of them together for nearly a year. A year! If it hadn't been for a casual conversation with his sister or a timely visit from Bilbo, he would never have known that she was, in fact, in Rivendell and pregnant with his child.

He sighed. If he had been in Tauriel's place, he would never have forgiven him but would have shown him the door. She should have done, he thought. But she HAD forgiven him and had married him and brought him back into her life. Perhaps she should have returned cruelty for cruelty and sent him away to brood on his sins alone at the forge. Instead, she had wrapped him in her love and, in doing so, had let him off the hook. He had tried not to think about this but had, instead, blanked it all out as he busied himself with building a life for his family.

Their marriage had brought much condemnation from the wider community. Why hadn't he thought that this would happen? Probably because he hadn't wanted to think about it. If he had, then surely he wouldn't have gone through with it, subjecting, as it did, his wife to so much harassment? She was the one who had borne the brunt of the animosity and, half the time, he had known nothing about it because she had been trying to protect him. She had been insulted and threatened by both dwarves and elves and a gang had even tried to murder their son as an "abomination". She had been rejected by her own community and one of her own soldiers at the outpost had sexually assaulted her because their marriage had somehow set her apart and made her fair game.

And all he did was create problems for her. He had tolerated a woman in his home whom he knew to be a trouble-maker instead of throwing her out straight away; and this had eventually caused Tauriel considerable pain, a pain which he knew was still with her. And he had brawled in their home, smashing it to pieces in his arrogant search for revenge without giving her opinions due consideration. And then, only a few weeks ago, he had been involved in yet another fight, beating up Tauriel's elven friends, even the one she regarded as a son. What an example he had been to his children, even involving them in the free-for-all. He was a terrible father as well as being a terrible husband and they would all be better off without him.

And perhaps the worst, he finally thought, the very, very worst, was the fact that he would die and leave her all on her own, to live her immortal life without him there to look after her. She really should have married another elf.

It was with all these thoughts crowding his mind that Thorin finally got up and faced a new day.

.o00o.

PT II

They spent two weeks with Elrond. The children loved it there and enjoyed riding up and down the valley on their ponies and demonstrating to the elves the superiority of dwarven bows. Tauriel thought that Thorin seemed very quiet and, when he became quiet, it always bothered her.

"Talk to me!" she commanded one night as they lay in bed together.

"What about?" he asked and he ran his finger down her beautiful face.

"Talk about why you're suddenly very quiet and why we've hardly made love these past couple of weeks." And her eyes searched his face for the truth.

Thorin sighed. "I can't tell you how tired I am, Tauriel," he said. "You may find it relaxing to be amongst elves but I find it quite stressful." And he kissed her gently on the lips. I'm a good liar, he thought.

Tauriel gave him a suspicious look. "And is that all?" she said.

"No," he said. "It's just one thing among several. We've travelled a long way for more than five months now and I've only been in the company of my own kind for a few days in all that time. I found Mirkwood even more stressful than I do Rivendell. All that kissing." And he grinned and kissed her tenderly on the lips again.

"Is there more?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied. "I'm worried about going home and I'm afraid of what we might find. The orcs could have burned the house to the ground, for all we know. The closer we get, the more I find myself thinking about it." Half-truths, he thought, but they seemed to satisfy Tauriel.

He made love to her that night to allay suspicion and it was wonderful. It wasn't that he didn't want to make love to her – he was desperate to do so and seemed to spend far too many of his waking hours thinking about it. But, when he did make love to her, he was filled with guilt. It seemed to him that he was using her to satisfy his own desires instead of thinking about what he could do to make life right for her and the children. His thoughts had progressed to the point where he thought that, ultimately, his family would be better off staying in Rivendell or going back to Mirkwood without him but he couldn't bring himself, as yet, to discuss it with her. Just one more day, he kept telling himself. Just one more day with her and then he would give her the opportunity to make the break from him.

.o00o.

In the end, they set out for Hobbiton without Thorin saying anything. By the time they arrived at Bag End, only a week remained of their exile.

"Well, my goodness," said Bilbo to the children. "Five of you set out and now seven of you have come back." And he dutifully petted and admired Blue and Little Beorn. "What marvellous names!" he exclaimed when they told him what the ponies were called. "I can't think of any name that would have suited them better!" And Arion and Rose gave Thorin a smug "I told you so" look.

Bilbo was delighted to look after them for a week but the seven days seemed to pass slowly for them all. Now that they were nearly there, they were straining at the leash to get home to Ered Luin. At last, the day of their departure arrived. There was much hugging and kissing with sugar-lumps for the ponies and biscuits for Dog; and then they were off.

Within a day, they had crossed the borders and reached the byway that led off the main road to the dwarven halls. "There it is! There it is!" shouted Arion excitedly as the homesteads and cottages and the caves hove into view. Dog barked and they all laughed and pointed; they couldn't wait to see Dis' face.

And there she was, looking solid and homely and welcoming. The children jumped from their ponies and flung themselves at her. "My goodness!" she said. "How you've grown!" And there were tears in her eyes. Arion and Rose ran into and around the house, exclaiming because it was all there, just as they had left it. It seemed a wonder and a reassurance to them because there had been so many changes in their lives in the previous six months.

"How have things been?" asked Thorin as they all sat down to supper.

"Pretty quiet," said Dis. "There have been no more orc raids and your men, Tauriel, are doing a good job of keeping us all safe. Lostwithiel has managed well without you... But they've all missed you," she added, patting Tauriel's hand, just in case the elf thought they were all managing a bit too well without her.

"And what about the forge?" continued Thorin.

"Well, brother, first of all, you'll be pleased to know that I've got a whole list of commissions for you from the Grey Havens. They're such admirers of your work that they're quite happy to wait."

"And the house?" asked Tauriel.

Dis looked pleased with herself. "I got the carpenters and the masons onto the repairs and the extension as soon as you left. They've done a fine job. I know you'll be pleased with it. And you just wait until you see your new bedroom, Rose! Such a pretty room!"

Tauriel touched her husband's arm. "Thorin has been really worried that the whole place would be burned down by orcs," she said.

"Well, I've done my best," Dis responded. "I've got everyone from the settlement who has passed by the forge on their way to and from the Grey Havens to give it a quick look and report back to me when they've come home. It was last reported on three days ago and it was still standing then."

The children gave a cheer and they all went to bed. Thorin made love to Tauriel that night and he wondered how many more times it would happen before she finally left him. Once they had got back to the forge, then he would talk to her.

.o00o.

They stocked up at the settlement, waved cheerily goodbye to Dis and then set off at last for home. They sang as they rode and the children argued over which pony should go in which stable. They clattered excitedly into the yard and dismounted from their horses. All the windows were shuttered but Rose suddenly clutched Tauriel by the arm and pointed upward. Thorin froze. There was smoke coming out of the chimney! He drew his sword and silently approached the house whilst Tauriel held her children to her. But, before he could come within reach of the door, the arrow slits in both of the windows snapped back and arrow heads emerged, both pointing at him.

"Put down your weapon!" snarled a voice. And he did so. There was a grating of metal as the bars on the door were pulled and a thickset man appeared with a long-handled axe in his hand.

"Who are you?" growled Thorin. "And what are you doing in my home?"

"Ah," said the man. "The owner returns, does 'e? Well, it ain't your 'ome no more because me and me mates 'ave requisitioned it, so to speak. So you can just bugger off and find somewhere else to lay yer 'ead."

Tauriel stepped forward then. "But you can't just take it," she gasped. "It's our home. What right do you have to it?"

"The right o' force," the man grinned. "I saw it, I took it and I'm a-keepin' of it."

"What if the soldiers come and tell you otherwise?" asked Thorin grimly.

"Oh, they can come if they like. But a right little fortress this is. 'Ow many of yer soldier friends d'ye think it's worth losing afore yer could wrest this'un off me, now?" And the squatter laughed because he had assessed his man and knew that he would not think that bricks and mortar were worth even one life. "Now get those children out of 'ere afore they get hurt." And he turned to shut the door.

Suddenly, Rose pushed away from the shelter of Tauriel's arms and stepped forward yelling: "Jim Widgery! It's you, ain't it? What a surprise!" And she stood there grinning at him.

The man stopped in his tracks and then raised his eyebrows in recognition. Thorin just stood there, warily watching the scene unfolding in front of him.

"My, if it ain't our little Rose," the man chuckled. "What you doin' 'ere?"

"Thought I'd found meself a decent pad, didn't I," said Rose, sauntering up to the front door. "But looks like I've lost it now." And she grinned and gestured towards him.

"Well, looks like you just 'ave," grinned the man in response. "And where's yer dad, then?"

"Taken by Corsair pirates," she said, "and this 'ere smith and 'is wife felt sorry for me and took me in. Any of me mates along wiv you inside, then?"

"Yeah, Bill Barnes and Marty White," and he gestured to the arrow slits. "You remember them, don't yer, Rose?"

"O' course," she said, "and I wouldn't mind seein' 'em again." And with that, she stepped forward as if to enter the house. But the man held out his hand to stop her.

"Oi, and what about these 'ere noo friends yer got?" he asked. "Don't you go expectin' me to entertain them as well." And he grinned widely, showing a row of rotten teeth.

Rose shrugged. "They ain't no friends o'mine," she said. "They're just people I was livin' wiv as I was passin' through. Earned me keep too. They kept me cookin'and cleanin' and lookin' after their kid all day long. Time I moved on, I fink."

The man stood to one side and bowed for her to enter.

"Rose!" said Thorin sharply, stepping forward as if to stop her. But the man lifted his axe and pointed it at his chest threateningly so that Thorin raised his hands in surrender and stepped back again.

"Rose!" shouted Tauriel. "What on earth do you think you're doing?"

"Lookin' after me own interests," said Rose as she entered the house.

"You said it, girl," laughed the man and he shut and bolted the door behind him.

.o00o.

PT III

Tauriel stood there with her mouth open and Arion started to cry. "I don't believe it," she said. "I just can't believe that she's walked out on us." And she started to cry too.

Thorin put his arm around her and Arion clung to him. "Of course she hasn't walked out on us," he said firmly. "Surely you know your own daughter by now? She's up to something. And I just hope that those men don't work that out too quickly."

But there was nothing he could do for the moment except wait. And so they withdrew to the trees to see what plan Rose intended to put into action, ready to rush to her aid when the moment came.

Jim, meanwhile, was locking and barring the door while Bill and Marty shut the arrow slits. "Great to see you, Rose," said Bill. "It's bin a long time." These men had often worked with her father when they were up to no good. And children were always useful in a gang of thieves and ruffians. They remembered how really effective Rose had been, wriggling through small widows when they were breaking into a house and distracting people by looking sweet and pathetic when they were picking pockets. And she always attracted a lot of money from tender-hearted, charitable townsfolk when she was set to beg in the street. So, now, they welcomed her back into the fold. But, while they clapped her on the shoulder and patted her head, they were already thinking of her uses.

"Lookin' good, Rose," said Marty. "And he scarcely recognised her. She was wearing boy's riding gear but her hair was very pretty and she had lost her previous skinny, waif-like look.

"Yeah," said Jim. "But she'll 'ave to lose some weight if she wants to look pathetic and 'alf-starved. That allus appeals to the soft-'earted."

"Well," said Rose, "I'll do the cookin' and I'll eat 'alf portions. Where are the provisions and I can start now."

It was nearly time for the evening meal and they remembered how useful it was to have a girl about the place. They always seemed to know about stuff like cooking. And so they showed her where they had stashed the food and Rose started preparations whilst Jim, Bill and Marty sat at their ease and drank the beer they had brought with them.

Rose bustled about. Tauriel's cooking lessons now served her well and she managed to throw together something quite tasty. As she served it up in the Hall, she looked scornfully at their mugs of beer. "What's that muck you're drinkin'," she asked. "Aven't you found the wine cellar yet?"

"Wine cellar? What wine cellar?" Jim asked and their eyes brightened.

She pulled back the big rug in the centre of the room to disclose a cunningly disguised trap-door.

"This wine-cellar," she said.

Marty descended the ladder and re-emerged with half a dozen bottles of wine. "There's some good stuff down there," he said. And they immediately set to, drinking straight from the bottle.

Good, thought Rose. He's chosen some pretty potent varieties there.

They got through the six bottles quickly and Marty descended into the cellar again, although rather more unsteadily this time. Rose's food lay forgotten and cold on the plates. And, after another round, Jim and Bill were out cold, snoring and sprawled across the table. "Go and get us anuvver bottle," said Marty blearily.

"Sorry, Marty," replied Rose. "I've always been frightened of that cellar. But, I'll help you out when you're ready."

And so, Marty climbed down and began fumbling about in the semi-darkness. At which, Rose slammed shut the cellar door and shot the big bolt. Ignoring his cries, she walked across the room and unbarred and unlocked the front door. Thorin was standing across the yard, leaning against a tree. "What took you so long?" he asked with a grin.

"You're just so ungrateful," muttered Rose and his grin widened.

They all went into the house and laughed when they saw the unconscious men and heard Marty yelling from the cellar. "Brilliant!" said Tauriel. Then they hauled the drunks out into the yard and released Marty from his prison. As he stumbled up the ladder and emerged into the room, he found Orcrist at his throat.

"Get out in the yard with your friends," snarled Thorin. Outside, Rose and Arion doused Jim and Bill with buckets of cold water while Thorin stood by with his sword and Tauriel with her bow.

"And now, be off with you," said Thorin. "And we don't want to see you anywhere in the area again."

The men staggered to their feet, moaning and clutching their heads. "You're gonna pay for this, Rose," said Jim in a menacing voice. "Really pay for it."

Thorin pressed Orcrist against his throat. "If you dare threaten my daughter again, you'll never see another dawn," he said softly. "And, now, get out of here."

The three men went quickly, looking fearfully over their shoulders. And then the family were able to enter their home for the first time in six months. The place was a mess. The men had only been there a couple of days and yet had managed to trash it. They all sat down and gazed around despondently. "I won't be able to relax until it's all tidy," said Tauriel and, although they were hungry, they set to with brooms and cleaning cloths and buckets of water. In a surprisingly short amount of time, it felt like home again and then they were able to appreciate the extension to the Hall. Arion's old bedroom had been turned into a playroom and a place to keep toys. They walked through it to reach two new bedrooms which had been built for the children and was designed to distance them a bit more from their parents' room. Tauriel gave Thorin an amused, sidelong glance but he didn't seem to notice. Both children were pleased with their rooms; Arion's was sturdy and masculine whilst Rose's had lots of pretty details and a beautiful little bed carved with flowers.

Rose sighed. "It's lovely," she said. "I shall sleep in here tonight."

"Does that mean that I'll have to sleep on my own?" asked Arion a bit anxiously.

"Yes," said Rose. "But you can have Dog with you, if you like, and I'll check for monsters under the bed before you go to sleep."

"Oh, all right, then," said Arion, sounding quite happy with the deal.

Then Tauriel and Rose cooked a meal whilst Thorin and Arion did their best to help. And, finally, they sat down to eat with the feeling that they had, at last, come home.

.o00o.

Tauriel had been looking forward to some celebratory love-making that night and was disappointed when Thorin climbed into bed, gave her a peck on the cheek and then went straight to sleep. She sighed, there was something wrong, in spite of his reassurances, and she would talk to him tomorrow.

Thorin was only pretending to be asleep. He had been very disturbed by the events of the day in more ways than one. All the way to the forge, he had been gearing himself up for a conversation with Tauriel, only to find the house occupied by squatters. And then what happened? Was the great Thorin Oakenshield the one to seize back his family's home? No, that was achieved by a little girl whilst he stood by helpless. And the men had threatened his daughter. He should have killed them there and then because their threats would now hang over Rose and they would never know if and when a revenge attack would take place. But, he had grown soft, even in the defence of his children, and he had just shooed them away.

What was wrong with him? He had been totally inadequate and the best thing to do was to get Tauriel and the children away from this dangerous place as soon as possible. Rivendell was where he would like them to go and where he felt they would be happiest. Rose had a very good relationship with Elrond and, moreover, the elf understood the difficulties of having mixed blood which meant he would be able to help and advise Arion as he grew older in a way that he could not. Bilbo often visited there as well and he would be a good friend and contact for all three of them. And, finally, it was this side of the Misty Mountains, unlike Mirkwood, and perhaps they would like him to visit them sometimes, too. He guessed that they would look forward to his visits initially, but he also knew that, the longer they were apart, the more distant Tauriel and the children would become. There might even come a time when they asked him not to visit any more. It gave him pain to think about this but he knew that he must put the needs of his family and not his own selfish desires first.

In fact, he was practising being unselfish tonight. He desperately wanted to make love to Tauriel. But, if tomorrow he suggested that they all leave, any love-making now might remind her of the time when he had said it was one to remember him by and he had no desire to give her back a memory of that most cruel moment. And so he pretended to be asleep. And Tauriel lay next to him and pretended to be asleep as well.

.o00o.

PT IV

Thorin got up early and went straight out to his forge to work on his new commissions. Hammering helped him to think. The forge had been rebuilt beautifully and he found it a very calming place to be. He could hear them all getting up in the house, opening shutters and the front door, making breakfast and singing, and all being perfectly happy without him.

Later...Later today, he would tell them. He would get them all together and explain to them why it was best for everyone concerned if they moved to Rivendell without him...everyone concerned except him, of course. But he wouldn't let them know that. He knew he couldn't live with the elves for more than a few weeks and he had to make his family understand that a separation was the only way.

Thorin put his tools down and went to the pump in the corner. He felt hot and miserable and needed to wash all his muddy thoughts away. He stuck his head under the pump and had only just raised it, wet and dripping, when a shadow blocked the light from the door. He turned, expecting to see Tauriel or Rose with his breakfast but, instead, there stood Jim and Marty, armed to the teeth, and screams suddenly came from the house next door. He glanced to the far side of the room where his sword and axe stood propped in the corner. They saw the direction of his glance and laughed.

"Well, dwarf," sneered Jim, "we seem to 'ave caught you on the 'op. And here's us payin' you a visit wiv a few friends." And he advanced into the room with his axe whilst Marty followed with his sword.

Thorin relaxed and took up a defensive posture. He was the great warrior, Thorin Oakenshield, and they were the scum of the underworld. No problem. He smiled, showing his white teeth.

"'Ere, Jim, why's 'e smilin'?" said Marty in a worried voice.

"'E's preparin' to meet 'is fate," said Jim, advancing further into the room. But Marty wasn't convinced and held back.

Jim ran at Thorin, swinging his axe, and brought it down on the dwarf in a heavy sweep. Thorin stood very still until the last moment. And then he moved slightly to one side so that the axe swept past him, missing him by a hair's breadth. Jim was flung forward by the weight and momentum of his own weapon and Thorin lunged, seizing the axe from his unsteady grasp in passing and knocking him from his feet. Then, as Marty stood open-mouthed, he swung the axe and swept Marty's head from his shoulders and, as he spun with the movement of the axe, he brought it down on Jim's neck as he still lay on the floor. It had only taken a few seconds and it was all over.

There was an ominous silence from the hall next door and then Dog began to bark. Thorin seized Orcrist and dashed to the door of his home. Four men lay sprawled on their backs in the centre of the room. And they were all dead. Two had their throats cut and two had arrows through them.

It seemed to Thorin that he was watching a tableau. Tauriel stood, wide-eyed and motionless on one side of the room, a killing knife in each hand, whilst the two children stood in a similar motionless fashion with their dwarven bows raised and their hands still in the firing position against their cheeks as if they had only just released the bowstring. Dog was the only thing in motion in the room, barking his head off and running excitedly from side to side.

Thorin's entrance broke the spell and, suddenly, they were all shouting at once. When the clamour had died down, he wrapped them in his arms for a few moments and then made them sit down so that they could tell him what had happened in the room.

"They came in while I was in the kitchen," said Tauriel. "I think they thought it would be easy – a woman and two children. They came to kill us," she said and she raised her eyes to him in horror. "But my knives were in the kitchen and I shouted for you and the children heard me scream."

"We were in the playroom," said Arion, "and we ran to our bedrooms and got our bows."

"Yeah," said Rose, her eyes glowing with excitement. "And when we came out, Tauriel was fighting two of them and Dog had one by the ankle and we just – we just – shot them." And suddenly she burst into tears. "My arrow went right through 'is breastplate," she sobbed. "I knew it would." And Thorin gathered both his children in his arms and comforted them.

"It's over," he said. And then they dragged the bodies outside, cleaned up the bloodstains and had breakfast. Afterwards, the children climbed upon his lap and went to sleep.

"They're exhausted," said Tauriel. And she leaned on his shoulder and shut her eyes too and they all sat there for a long time.

.o00o.

But this did not increase Thorin's confidence in himself: in fact, it only made things worse. As he sat there quietly with Tauriel and the children, he could only think of his huge mistake in judgement when he had failed to kill the squatters. Because of this, the men had come back with reinforcements and had nearly killed his entire family. By the time that Arion and Rose had woken up and had gone to play in their room and Tauriel had got up and returned to the kitchen, Thorin was convinced that the forge was a very dangerous place to be and that he was a very dangerous person to be with.

This afternoon, he told himself. I must tell them this afternoon.

.o00o.

The afternoon came and Thorin took a deep breath. "I want to talk to everyone about something important," he said.

Here it comes, thought Tauriel.

They all sat around the table and looked expectantly at him and Thorin cleared his throat.

"The attacks on us and our home in the past two days have convinced me of something I've been concerned about for a long time." They all stared wide-eyed at him wondering what was coming next. "I think it's pretty obvious that this forge is not a suitable place to bring up a family and it seems a good idea to me that you should all move to Rivendell."

"Why Rivendell?" asked Tauriel.

"Well, for a start," said Thorin to his wife, pleased that there wasn't an immediate outcry, "we've had trouble both from the dwarves and men up at the settlement and from the elves down in the Grey Havens. Just like here, they are not safe places either. But Rivendell is. And it is a place where I know you feel very happy and comfortable."

He turned to the children. "You both like Elrond, don't you?" And they nodded. "Elrond is already teaching you a lot of important things, Rose. And I think, Arion, that Elrond would have plenty of good advice for you as you get older."

"Well," said Rose, "I'm a bit fed up with learning to speak proper. I like you teaching me 'ow to ride and 'ow to shoot a bow. And that was a really useful thing to know this morning, wasn't it?"

"And," said Arion, "you always give me good advice. Why does Elrond have to give it to me?"

There was a long pause and finally Thorin said quietly: "Because I won't be there."

There was immediate uproar with everyone shouting at once. Finally, Tauriel held up her hand for silence and said with a quiver in her voice: "I think you'd better explain yourself, Thorin."

He stared at them all, wondering how he could make them understand and then he said: "For most of my adult life, I wanted to defeat Smaug and be King under the Mountain. I was obsessed with it. Nothing else mattered. And then I became King." And he paused.

"And then you gave it all away," said Tauriel quietly.

"Yes, I gave it all away because I was no good at being a king. I nearly caused the deaths of dwarves, men and elves because of my pride. Dain is a much better king than I could ever have been."

"And then," continued Tauriel, "you married me and had children."

He looked at her. "You and Arion and Rose were all I ever wanted. I thought that no dwarf could be luckier."

"But then," said Tauriel, "you decided that you were no good at being a husband or a father and now you want to give us all away – to Elrond."

"Yes," said Thorin, relieved that she seemed to understand.

"How dare you?!" said Tauriel quietly and with feeling.

The children lined up either side of her.

"I don't want to be given away! Don't you dare give me away! It's as bad as me dad tryin' to sell me!" cried Rose.

"And I don't want to be given away either!" said Arion. "And neither does Dog." And he put his arm around his pet.

This was not going well, thought Thorin and he tried again.

"Look, children," he said, "I want you to think about what a bad father I've been and how dangerous it is to be near me and how much better off you'll be in Rivendell." They looked at him sullenly and so he pressed on. "Just think how I let Kagris into my home and it nearly ended up with you being murdered, Arion. And how I was just too stupid to realise that there was so much hatred for this family. And just think, Rose, of the way I treated you when I first found you, as if you were an adult and not a little girl. I was so rough and unkind. You must have hated me."

"Well," muttered Rose, "I deserved it. And you taught me right from wrong."

"And it was me who let Kagris into our home and kept things from you and ran away with Arion in the middle of the night, putting us both in danger," put in Tauriel.

Thorin ran his fingers through his hair and pressed on: "But don't you remember how much you enjoyed being with Bilbo and Elrond and Legolas? It was much more fun than being with me."

"Novelty value," said Tauriel. "It soon wore off."

"And what about me involving you in that fight with the elves in Mirkwood? No decent father would have done that."

"Oh," said Rose, her eyes gleaming, "but it was so much fun!"

"Yeah," said Arion, "and I started it!"

"And what about the past few days?" he asked desperately. "I should have killed those squatters and, because I didn't, they came back to kill us. I'm just too dangerous to be with."

"Of course you're not," said Rose scornfully. "You saved me and Arion from drowning."

"And you saved me from those men and dwarves who called me a 'bomination," put in Arion.

"And you saved me and Lostwithiel from the orcs," said Tauriel. "And you saved us all when you held up the roof in the cave where you were prepared to die yourself."

"You're a hero," said Rose.

"Yeah!" said Arion. "And heroes don't give their children away!"

There was a pause while they all glared fiercely at him. Then he said: "Go outside and play, you two. I need to talk to your mother. And, reluctantly, they went out into the yard. "And don't go near those bodies!" he yelled.

He turned back to Tauriel and she sat waiting patiently. Then he got up and paced up and down the room. And then he came back to the table, sat down and took her by the hand. "It's your responsibility," he said, "to take your children away to Rivendell, out of harm's way. And I'm leaving it up to you to persuade them."

"They're your responsibility too," she replied calmly. "And they're definitely not Elrond's."

Thorin got up again and walked around a bit more. "Then, if you won't go for their sake, you must go for your own." And he sat down and took her hand in his. "Tauriel," he said, "you must see that life with the elves offers you more than I can ever offer you."

"Like what?" she asked.

"Like, all that beauty."

"You're beautiful," she said.

He dropped her hand and continued doggedly: "And there's the music and the poetry."

"I can write my own poetry if I really want to and your singing surpasses anything I have heard in either Rivendell or Mirkwood. And I think the ladies of the Grey Havens would agree with me there." And she giggled.

"Stop it, Tauriel," he said, "and listen to me seriously."

With an effort, she pulled a straight face and said, "I'm listening."

"And there's the witty conversation. I don't do witty conversation," he said sullenly.

"Ah, yes," she said, "but I could listen to your lovely voice all day. And being witty is so tiring."

"And what about the dangers of living with me at this forge?" he persisted.

"There are dangers everywhere. You don't escape them by running away. And I'd rather face them with you than with anyone else on Middle-earth." And she leaned across the table and kissed him tenderly.

He was not going to be side-tracked. He backed away and said: "But I've been so cruel to you and I can't guarantee that I won't be cruel again."

"And I have forgiven you. And I shall forgive you again. And besides," she added, "for every unkind thing you have ever done – and those can be counted on the fingers of one hand – you have done hundreds of wonderful things – acts of love, kindness, bravery, compassion – the list is endless." And she stood up and came around to where he was sitting and sat upon his lap and, taking him by his plaits, looked deeply into his eyes. "And that's why I love you. And that's why Arion and Rose love you. And that's why there is no way on Middle-earth that we are going to traipse off to Rivendell and leave you behind. We are going to stay with you in this forge on the crossroads because that's where we all belong... Together... And now," she said, "I am going to kiss you. And I shan't stop kissing you until you agree that I am right."

Then Tauriel covered his lips with her own and he let her kiss him for some time until he finally agreed that she was right. And Tauriel went to the door and called the children in and told them that they weren't going to Rivendell but that they were all going to stay together at the forge and that their father had agreed to stop being silly. And then the children cheered and gave Thorin a hug.

.o00o.

Thorin and Tauriel lay in bed together. "There is one more thing," he said.

"Tell me about it," she sighed.

"I'm going to die and then you will be left all on your own."

"Yes, I know, my love," she said, "and I wish that we could go on together for all time. But we can't. We must just make the most of the time that we have been given. Every moment we spend together must count and every moment must be beautiful, like this," she said. And she drew him into her arms and kissed him and whispered how much she loved him. And the moments that they spent together that night and every night were, indeed, very beautiful.

.o00o.


	12. Chapter 12 Thorin and the Baby

Isn't it about time that Thorin and Tauriel had more children, you might ask? And so, by popular request, I bring you the story of Thorin and the Baby.

And a thank you to those of you who have written a review. Feedback is really important to me and I appreciate the time people take to read my stories and then to write a comment.

.o00o.

THORIN AND THE BABY

PT I

Thorin had been back home from his travels in exile for nine months now and he was a happy man. A very, very happy man. He lay in bed with Tauriel as the sun rose and his hand rested on her swollen belly. Ten months pregnant with only two more months to go. She had got past all the dangerous moments of the early months without a miscarriage and the physician reckoned that it should all be downhill from here. He felt the baby kick beneath his palm and a wave of tenderness washed through him. He nuzzled Tauriel's throat and she smiled sleepily, turning towards him a little clumsily and kissing him. "Time to get up?" she asked.

"Not quite yet," he said. "But there's just enough time to find out who this strange woman is lying next to me."

"What strange woman?" she giggled, as his hands began to caress her.

"Well, this one," he murmured. "She just doesn't feel like the woman who used to sleep in my bed and I believe that the whole matter needs a thorough investigation." His thorough investigation took another hour and was enjoyed by both parties.

Tauriel sighed. "That was lovely," she said. "I'm so ugly and swollen at the moment and you make me feel quite beautiful."

Thorin tutted in her ear. "But you ARE beautiful, my love. Never more so."

"Love is blind," she whispered back. "I'm very glad to say." And she kissed him tenderly.

Her pregnancy still filled them both with wonder. They had begun to think that Arion might be their only natural born son. But this new child had been conceived on their journey back to Ered Luin at Elrond's Last Homely House and had slowly become apparent after they had got back home.

"I think it must be something to do with Rivendell," Tauriel said. "It's such a magical place." And her only wish was that Elrond could be at her side to help her through the birth as he had done so expertly with Arion.

They got up then and soon the children and Dog came running into the Hall eager to eat breakfast so that they could go on their treat for the day. As Tauriel got nearer and nearer her time, she had become concerned that Arion and Rose would feel neglected – as they surely would – once the baby was born. And so, every week, she tried to take them on a small "adventure" so that they would remember the good times they had had together and know that, in the end, such times would return again. She deliberately called them the Baby Days so that they would associate them with the coming birth.

But Thorin was becoming more anxious particularly as he had to stay behind and work in his forge. "Are you sure you're up to it?" he regularly asked as the months passed.

"Yes, I'm sure I am," she would say, kissing his worry lines. "I've got the trap now and it's much more comfortable than riding my horse." Thorin had bought her a well-sprung trap with padded seats for them to travel in and he felt a bit more reassured about her journeys. Last week, they had gone for a few days' holiday to the Grey Havens and, next week, they would spend a few more days with Dis in the dwarven settlement, possibly the last time they would see her before the baby was born.

Tauriel had organised a particularly exciting adventure for them to go on this morning which the children knew nothing about yet. "Where are we going for our Baby Day?" asked Arion, looking fit to burst.

"You'll never guess," teased Tauriel.

"No, we won't," said Rose, "so I wish you would hurry up and tell us." And her eyes danced with anticipation.

"It's somewhere you've never been before."

"We don't want clues," said Rose, squirming on the edge of her seat. "We just want to KNOW!"

"Well," grinned their mother, "I'm taking you up to the outpost and we shall spend the day with some of my men." The children screamed and whooped and danced around the table. They knew all about their mother's work as captain of an elven troop but had never visited the farmhouse and had never even met any of the elven lords who manned it. This did, indeed, promise to be a very thrilling experience. Tauriel had not visited herself for a month but had left her right-hand man, Lostwithiel, in charge until after she had given birth. But, it would be delightful to see them all again, even if it was only for a sociable day.

There was a decent track up to the old farmhouse that had become the main outpost for Ered Luin. The weather was fine and sunny and Tauriel thought that the journey there and back in the comfortable trap would not prove too difficult. But she promised that, if she felt too tired, she would stay there overnight and light the beacon at dusk as a signal to Thorin. Now that Gandalf's fireworks had proved such a useful warning system, the beacon there was no longer used to signify danger but was just a useful method of pre-arranged communication.

"Please be careful, my love," murmured Thorin as he kissed her and helped her up into the seat of the trap. And she promised that she would be.

It was such an enjoyable ride. Rose was ten years old now, going on eleven, and Arion was four and they and Tauriel chattered excitedly as they steadily wound their way up into the hills with Dog trotting happily alongside them. When Lithin, the lookout, stopped them and then saluted them and their mother, it made the children feel very important indeed. The visit had been arranged on her last trip there and the family were expected. There was no patrol that day and the whole troop were gathered together to greet the family and to give them an entertaining time forTauriel's sake.

Arion was very impressed by all these fine soldiers and decided there and then that he wanted to become one of them when he grew up. And, if Rose had been starry-eyed when she had met Legolas, then she was quite overwhelmed by all these dashing, athletic, blond-haired elf lords who sauntered out to greet them with their dazzling smiles and who swept her and her mother so effortlessly down from the seat of the trap. They all lined up to salute Tauriel but when she said, "At ease!" they bent over and kissed Rose's hand in that graceful way that had embarrassed her so much when Thranduil had done it in Mirkwood. Only, this time, it wasn't embarrassing but rather nice. And, just as Arion was deciding that he would be a soldier, so Rose was deciding that she was going to marry one of these handsome elves when she grew up. They were immortal: they could afford to wait for her, just as Tauriel had married a much younger Thorin. The only problem was, which one to choose? The shy one, the athletic one, the tall one, the clever one? Ahhh, so many stunning elf lords and so little time, she thought. And she had visions of herself in a beautiful elven gown, wearing a mithril crown and dancing elegantly with an elven husband whilst the while room bowed to her.

Borondin and Rostrel showed the children around the farmhouse whilst Tauriel rested in the comfortable kitchen. Lostwithiel filled her in on various minor things that had happened in the past month and, when the children returned, he served up drinks and a cake that the elves had made themselves. And when they all said how good it was and asked for another slice, the elves looked very pleased.

The idea was that Lostwithiel should take them on a picnic in a pretty glade a couple of miles away whilst the rest of the troop got on with their duties. It was an easy ride and they could take the trap whilst Lostwithiel rode his horse. They would have another little get-together on their return, playing games and competing with their bows, and then, if all was well, Tauriel would drive home.

Soon, off they set with Lostwithiel. Arion wanted to ride with him on his horse and Rose, after studying the elf lord for at least the first mile, came to the conclusion that he might prove to be the one for her. He was tall, well-muscled, VERY blond and rode his horse with an elegant nonchalance. How sophisticated he seemed. And so witty. They laughed a lot as he engaged them in delightful conversation. She made comparisons and decided that Thorin didn't engage in delightful conversation. He was more likely to be telling her off about something or glaring at her from under his dark brows. And black was such a boring colour. She tugged at her own pretty black curls that were now half-way down her back and at Arion's hair and thought about Thorin's. Blond was infinitely preferable, particularly if it were straight. And she looked admiringly at Tauriel's golden mane and at Lostwithiel's hair that was almost bleached white by the sun. Infinitely preferable.

With these entertaining thoughts dancing in her head, they finally reached the delightful glade. What a wonderful place for a picnic, she thought. They were high up and could see for miles. The sun was warm, the sky was blue, the trees cast a dappled shade and Lostwithiel threw a white cloth on the ground and brought some small seats from the back of the trap on which his guests could sit. They built a camp fire and, since both Lostwithiel and Tauriel had brought some dainty treats with them, the chidren were soon demolishing a pile of food with enthusiasm. Then the children and Dog lay upon the ground and listened to the hum of insects and bees whilst Tauriel remained in a seat and Lostwithiel lounged on one arm and recited poetry and sang them songs. Yes, definitely The One, thought Rose.

They were all so languid and sleepy that, when it happened, they were totally unprepared. A huge white streak, the size of a pony, charged through the glade, grabbed Arion by the scruff of his neck and disappeared into the trees. Tauriel and Rose screamed, Dog barked hysterically and Lostwithiel jumped to his feet and dashed to his horse. "A warg!" he yelled. "Arion's been taken by a warg!"

.o00o.

PT II

Lostwithiel grabbed his bow and quiver that were hanging from a tree and leaped gracefully onto his horse. Like a real hero, Rose thought. He whistled to Dog who was straining to be of use and the animal shot off on the trail of the warg.

Tauriel struggled to get up from her low seat but Rose stopped her. "There's nothing you can do," she said sensibly. "Let Lostwithiel sort it out." And so, with a pounding heart, Tauriel sat back down again and Rose put her arms around her.

The warg was a female albino. Rejected by many of her kind, she had come down from the mountains to find a suitable place to give birth to her pups. She had discovered a small den and it was there that three of her babies had been born and two of them had died. She was determined that the last of them would survive. She was huge and vicious, with lolling tongue and great, slavering jaws, a wolf in all but size and name. Her surviving pup was also albino and was already larger than Dog but its mother had been searching all day for some delicacy that would increase its chances of survival and she thought she had found it in Arion.

Arion, when he was younger, had been afraid of two things: the dark and monsters under the bed. Now that he had overcome those two fears, nothing else scared him, not even being carried in the jaws of a monstrous, wolf-like creature. In fact, he was feeling very angry and his little face, screwed up in indignation, was the image of his father's when he was in a grumpy mood.

The warg reached her den and dropped her tender morsel on the ground in front of her child, nudging Arion towards it and whining in an encouraging way. She wanted the pup to practise going in for the kill which is why she was now presenting live meat to it - but if the boy had been for herself, Arion would have been dead within seconds of her picking him up. The pup looked at Arion with interest and barred his teeth in imitation of its mother. Saliva dripped from between its huge teeth and it growled, low and menacingly, in its throat. Arion was only partly aware of his danger, but he recognised bad behaviour when he saw it in an animal and, balling his fist, he struck the pup hard on the nose. "Bad boy!" he shouted at him. "Sit!" And he pointed to the ground. The baby warg yelped and blinked in surprise; then it sat down. The irritated mother, angry that this creature had struck her child, was just about to rip Arion's head off when she was startled by the sound of barking and a horse's hooves. She leaped from her den to confront this new danger but was struck down by three arrows that hit her in quick succession before she even had time to assess the situation. Lostwithiel nocked another arrow as the cub emerged and ran, circling and whining, around the body of its dead mother. As he drew back the bow, Arion crawled out of the den, yelling: "Stop! Stop it! I want him!"

"What?" said Lostwithiel.

"I said I wanted him. You've killed his mother and now I think we ought to look after him." And he stood between the creature and the elf's line of sight. The cub hid behind him as if suddenly realising that it was in some kind of peril whilst Dog barked angrily and made ready to attack the warg himself .

"Arion," said Lostwithiel, half in irritation and half in amusement, "you can't make a warg into a pet. It's never been heard of before."

"And no-one had ever heard of an elf and a dwarf having a baby before, but here I am," grinned the boy. And Lostwithiel recognised the stubbornness of his father in his eyes. The only thing to do was to ask Tauriel and so Lostwithiel passed the buck. Arion called off Dog who slunk away in a bad humour and they tied a rope around the cub and pulled him along, rather reluctantly, behind the horse. The horse was very skittery when it found it had a warg snapping at its heels and Dog looked as though he was ready to disobey Arion's commands.

"But, I'm glad," said Lostwithiel, "that I managed to find you in one piece."

"Thank you for saving me," said Arion in a very ungrateful voice. He suspected that the elf would do his best to deprive him of his new toy.

As they approached the picnic glade, Arion was getting ready in his mind a list of all the things that he could say that might persuade his mother that keeping the warg was a sensible idea. His list was very short and he was just gearing himself up for a knock-down fight over the creature when they all heard a cry for help from the clearing. Lostwithiel increased the speed of his horse, dragging the cub along in his wake, and they entered the glade to witness a frightening scene.

Tauriel was lying on the grass on the now-stained table-cloth, groaning in what was obviously terrible pain. Rose was kneeling next to her, holding her hand tightly. "She's 'aving the baby," she yelled. "The fright over the warg brought it on. Come and 'elp."

Lostwithiel went from being an elegant, confident elf lord to an embarrassed, quaking jelly in five seconds. He looked over his shoulder as if he expected to find suitable help waiting just behind him. He backed away with his hands held up in horror and it was Arion who ran forward to see what he could do.

Tauriel gasped with relief when she saw her son and reached out her hand to touch him.

"Get over 'ere, Lostwithiel," Rose snapped. "You can't deliver a baby from 12 feet away!"

"D-deliver a baby," stuttered the elf. "But I've got no idea..."

"And neither 'as Arion but 'e's showed 'imself willin'," she said sharply. The elf was going down fast in her estimation. Perhaps he wasn't The One after all.

Lostwithiel edged closer. "Can't we get her into the trap and take her back to the outpost?"

"No, we can't," said Rose. "She's in too much pain and it might be bad for the baby. We'll just 'ave to manage."

"Well," said Lostwithiel, seeing a means of escape, "perhaps I should go and get some help."

"From the farm'ouse?" she asked scornfully. "Got any midwives up there, or are they all like you?"

Lostwithiel saw her point and submitted himself to Rose's instructions.

"Have you ever delivered a baby?" he asked Rose.

"I've watched a couple of times," she replied.

Better than nothing, he thought.

She directed Arion to tie up Dog and the warg to separate trees and then to get some water boiling on their camp fire. She then asked Lostwithiel for his knife. "What's the knife for?" asked the elf looking pale and sweaty.

"For cutting the cord," Rose said and Lostwithiel looked paler and sweatier than ever.

"And we need some string." Lostwithiel looked vacant. "What have you got in your pockets, Arion?" she asked.

He dug his hands in his pockets. "String," he said, holding up a few lengths.

"How did you know that?" asked the elf, looking amazed.

"I thought everyone knew that all little boys carry string in their pockets," said Rose scornfully. Did this elf know nothing?

Tauriel let out a loud groan again and called for Rose. Rose knelt by her side and the elf clutched her hand. "I'm frightened, Rose," she whispered. "Don't leave me." And Rose sat by her shoulder and told her that she wouldn't.

"Take off your shirts, you two," she said, "and then you can put your jerkins back on."

"Our SHIRTS?" said Lostwithiel.

"Yes, your shirts," the girl sighed. "We're going to need something to wrap the baby in and to mop up everything."

"Everything?" the elf lord said faintly.

"Yes, everything," snapped Rose. "And stop repeatin' what I say!"

After only a short time, Tauriel's pains were coming thick and fast. She was still holding on tightly to Rose's hand and wouldn't let her go. "I think this is moving really quickly," Rose muttered, "and the baby will be small. It might shoot out pretty fast. Get down there between Tauriel's legs, Lostwithiel, and tell me if you can see the top of the baby's 'ead yet. Get ready to catch it when it pops out."

Lostwithiel just couldn't do it. He knelt down between Tauriel's legs but he turned his head away and shielded his eyes with a hand.

"No time for modesty," Rose yelled. "Look! Now! This minute! What do you see?"

Lostwithiel took a peek between his fingers. "The top of the baby's head?" he suggested cautiously. And then he shouted in excitement: "The top of the baby's head! I can see the top of the baby's head!"

He placed his shirt on the grass and knelt with his hands ready for the catch. It happened suddenly, but he was there. The baby slithered out and he wrapped it in his shirt. "It's a girl!" he yelled and they all cheered. "What now?" he asked, excited but afraid. "Wiggle your finger around in 'er mouth and make sure it's clear and then turn 'er over and rub 'er back until she breathes." The baby breathed and cried and they all took a breath themselves. Tauriel finally let go of Rose's hand and she retrieved the knife from a pot of boiling water, showed Lostwithiel what the string was for and cut the cord.

Half an hour later, it was all over and Arion's shirt had been used to mop everything up. I see what she meant, thought Lostwithiel. Tauriel was sitting propped up against a tree with a tiny, golden-haired daughter in her arms. "You were wonderful," she smiled at Rose. "What an amazing little girl you are!"

"And Lostwithiel was pretty wonderful too," grinned Rose, "when push came to shove, so to speak. And Arion didn't lose his head either. What a team, eh?" And she grinned across at Lostwithiel who was sitting propped against another tree with a rather dazed expression on his face.

When Tauriel felt able, they helped her into the back of the trap with the baby and Rose, then the horse, the dog and the warg were tied behind while Arion with Lostwithiel got into the driving seat. Tiredly, they made their way back to the outpost.

.o00o.

PT III

Bedrolls had been replaced by proper beds at the farmhouse some months earlier, so at least Tauriel had somewhere comfortable to lay her head. There was so much excitement when they all returned with the baby and there was a constant queue to visit the newborn and her mother until Rose finally put her foot down and, shutting Tauriel's bedroom door behind her, insisted that they let them both alone so that they could get some sleep. Then she went to the kitchen where decisions were being made.

Thorin had to be told immediately, the elves decided and, although he was tired, Lostwithiel felt that it was his duty to convey the message. He and Thorin wouldn't return for four hours at the soonest, so Rose took a bedroll and, placing it next to Tauriel's bed, also got some sleep. The unflagging Arion went outside to train his pet warg. He tied up Dog so that he wouldn't interfere but Dog was very jealous and whined so much that Lithin took him into the house to feed him some treats.

The elves were fascinated by the warg. It wasn't every day that any of them got to see a close-up of this terrifying animal. The cub was white and fluffy with a heavy ridge of hair around its shoulders. It looked very cuddly until it opened its mouth and then you could see the large, razor-sharp teeth. It was as big as a normal wolf already even though it was only a baby and there was some discussion over whether or not Arion should be allowed to mess around with it in the yard or if it made better sense to lock it in the stables for the moment until Thorin arrived and made a decision. But when they watched the little boy interacting with the pup, it soon became pretty clear that Arion had established himself as pack leader. The warg whined and fawned about him and obeyed every command. They found it quite amazing to watch. So, in the end, Arion was allowed to continue his training sessions while a couple of the elves kept an interested watch.

Down at the forge, Thorin was packing his tools away. He got himself a beer and then went out to sit on the bench to watch for the beacon in case it was lit. He hoped it wasn't. He hoped that Tauriel was already on her way home with the two children. He was really getting unhappy about these expeditions. Somehow, it almost came as no surprise when he heard the beat of hooves and Lostwithiel came charging into the yard. Thorin leaped to his feet and suddenly felt very afraid, and he ran to seize the bridle of the plunging and rearing horse.

"It's alright! She's alright!" Lostwithiel shouted as he saw the look on Thorin's face. And he slid off his sweating steed.

"The children?" Thorin's thoughts flew elsewhere.

"No, they're alright too. The warg did no harm," gabbled Lostwithiel, trying to seize Thorin by the arm in a reassuring grasp.

"The warg? What warg?" cried Thorin in desperation.

"The warg that ran off with Arion...But don't worry, I killed it!"

"Lostwithiel!" yelled Thorin, taking the elf by his shoulders and shaking him. "Make sense!"

"The baby! The baby's come! I delivered it!" he managed to gasp.

"YOU delivered it?" shouted Thorin. You mean, you got down between my wife's legs and..." He drew back his fist.

"Oh, for goodness' sake, Thorin," snapped Lostwithiel, batting his fist away. "No time for that! Now focus! Just focus! Didn't you hear me?" And he seized him by his plaits and stared him in the eyes. "THE BABY HAS BEEN BORN!"

"The baby has been born?" whispered Thorin.

"Yes," grinned Lostwithiel, "and it's a little girl with golden hair."

"A little girl with golden hair?" echoed Thorin, and Lostwithiel could understand Rose's annoyance at his constant repetition of her words.

"It's a girl!" yelled Thorin. "And you delivered it, Lostwithiel!" and he clapped the elf on the back. "Tell me about it!"

And the elf lord told him the whole story as calmly as he could whilst Thorin kept grinning and punching him in the shoulder.

"And if you think that I had any romantic notions whilst I was down at the business end of someone giving birth, then you're more stupid than I first thought," he added indignantly.

Thorin embraced him. "That was an amazing thing you did," he said at last and there was real emotion in his voice.

"It was awful, actually," was the response. "Rose was the amazing one. She's a real jewel. And she knows how to boss people around," he laughed. "She really bullied me into helping out."

"Was Arion afraid?" asked the new father.

"No. I was more frightened than he was. He's a gutsy little boy. He didn't seem concerned at all about the warg or his mother giving birth – he was too busy training up that warg pup."

"Warg pup? What warg pup?" Thorin started to say. But then he marched to the stable to saddle his horse. "Don't tell me," he said, holding up his hand. "I don't think I want to know."

.o00o.

Up at the farmhouse, Tauriel and Rose had both woken up from their nap. The baby was still fast asleep. "She's bound to be very sleepy – she's come into the world a bit early," the elf said.

Rose studied the baby closely. She was very, very tiny but, at the same time, looked strong and healthy. She was utterly charming. Her hair was curly like Thorin's but a pale gold like her mother's. Tauriel gazed down at her with such a look of love that Rose wondered sadly if her own mother had ever looked at her like that. She doubted it.

Rostrel brought in Arion for a few minutes to see his new sister. Arion thought to himself that a baby warg was much more interesting. He sat next to Rose on the bed. "She doesn't look like my sister, does she?" was all he said. Then he wandered off in search of food. Rose went to fetch Tauriel a tray and then sat outside with a plate of food to wait for Thorin.

.o00o.

When he came at last, Rose leaped to her feet and ran to meet him. He dismounted quickly and patted her on the head in a rather distracted way. "I hear you did well, Rose," he said and then disappeared into the house. She ran in behind him.

In Tauriel's office-cum-bedroom, she felt out of place. Thorin embraced his wife with a passionate tenderness and kissed her on the lips. The baby was in a make-shift cot, a drawer by the side of the bed, and he bent down to pick her up, his eyes glowing. "She's beautiful," he said, "really beautiful. How could a great lump like me be the father of such a lovely, exquisite child!" And he sat down on the bed and they gazed together at their new offspring. "Thank you, Tauriel," he breathed. "Thank you." And he kissed her again and then he kissed the child. They didn't seem to notice Rose, standing there silently in the corner. The young girl felt intrusive and uncomfortable and crept quietly out of the room.

Thorin and Tauriel gazed into each other's eyes for long, tender moments. They thought this day would never come. And now it had come and it was more wonderful than either of them had ever imagined.

"Rose was truly amazing," said Tauriel at last. "I don't know what would have happened if she hadn't been there. Lostwithiel went completely to pieces until she had a good shout at him." And she laughed.

"Lostwithiel called her a jewel and I think he's right," said Thorin. "One of the best things we ever did was to make her a part of our family." And although he always found it difficult to say the word, he turned to Tauriel and, taking her by the hand, he said: "I really love her, you know, as if she were my own."

And Tauriel stroked his cheek and said: "I know you do. And I love her, too. I knew what we had found that first time you brought her home – and so did Arion, even though he was little more than a baby." And she pulled a plait. "It was you who couldn't see the pearl cast in your way."

"I think I did," he replied quietly, "but you know how reluctant I am to acknowledge any depth of feeling." And he kissed her again. His lips were very soft against hers and his beard felt silken against her cheek.

"You've been working on it," she smiled. "I think you're nearly there. Now, just tell me how much you love me again."

.o00o.

Out at the front of the house, Rose sat sadly in the warm summer twilight with her back against the wall and her chin resting upon her knees. Lostwithiel emerged from the stables having tended to the horses and, seeing her, came and sat down next to her.

"What's the problem, then?" he asked.

"They don't want me no more," she said, and a tear ran down her cheek. "They've got a daughter of their own now and they don't need me. And," she added, "Arion don't need me neither. He's got his baby warg to play with and look after."

"Where is he?" asked the elf.

"In one of the stables," she said. "He's taken a bedroll in there and he's gonna sleep with the pup. We used to share a bedroom, you know," she added, and she brushed away the tear quickly with the heel of her hand.

"And where are you going to sleep?" asked Lostwithiel. He suddenly realised that, in all the fuss, no thought had been given to the children.

"Oh, I'll find a bedroll from somewhere and go and sleep in the barn or somefink," she said. "I can't sleep in the stable with Arion because the warg keeps growling at me."

"Well," smiled Lostwithiel, "if I don't want to get into trouble with Tauriel for neglecting you, I think you'd better take my bed and I'll sleep out in the barn."

She protested but he insisted and at last she gave in. He put his arm around her shoulder and they sat there companionably for a while, enjoying the warmth of the wall against their backs, until it got cold and they went in.

.o00o.

Pt IV

The next morning, they made Tauriel stop in bed whilst they got organised for their journey home. There had been a bit of a confrontation over the warg but, finally, Thorin made a decision. When he first saw the creature, he had been amazed. He had fought with and killed many of them at the Battle of the Five Armies, but, to see one trotting along quietly at his son's heels was quite disturbing. He had the urge to draw Orcrist and kill it there and then.

"I know what you're thinking, father," said Arion, as he saw Thorin's hand twitch above his sword, "but this warg answers to me because he knows I'm in charge. Look!" And he demonstrated the creature's obedience in a series of trials.

"I want to be a soldier when I grow up like you and Lostwithiel," the child added, "perhaps even working up here at the outpost." Thorin nodded in approval. "And I want to be a warg-rider," he continued. "Just think how useful that would be in a fight or when we're tracking."

Thorin was nearly convinced. "So, where are you going to keep him at home," he asked, "if I say yes?"

Arion had it all worked out: "Well, he'll be like a cross between a horse and a dog, so I think it best if I keep him in one of the stables."

"And what if the horses can scent him and don't like it?"

"Then I shall have to train the horses, too, and teach them how to get along with him," he replied calmly.

Thorin stepped forward and the warg growled. "Well, I would say that you're the only one he likes at the moment," he said. "But, I'll give you two months to train him to get along with all of us – including Dog – and, if you succeed, then you can keep him."

Arion punched the air and said, "Thanks, dad!"

"Do I get a hug, then?" asked Thorin.

"No," said Arion. If I touch you, he might just try to bite your head off."

Thorin could see two rather difficult months ahead.

.o00o.

On the way back down to the forge, with Thorin driving the trap and all the other animals tied on behind, they discussed names.

"So," said Thorin to Arion, "what are you going to call this new pet of yours?"

"Warg," said Arion.

"Of course," said Thorin. And then they discussed a name for the baby.

At first they played around with variations on Lostwithiel's name since he had been the child's midwife. Both Tauriel and Rose liked "Thiel" but, in the end, Thorin threw in his veto. "If we name her after Lostwithiel, every time I say her name, I shall think of what he was up to in order to deserve the honour. Not a nice image," he said.

Then they thought of dwarven names from Thorin's family tree but they sounded too harsh in Tauriel and Rose's ears.

Then they thought of the women in Tauriel's family but, since they had rejected dwarven names, this seemed unfair.

Arion suggested "Baby", of course, as something pretty obvious, but then Arion would, and they all groaned.

"How about Poppy?" suggested Tauriel as they passed by a field of poppies. It will remind us all of the time when she was born and this happy trip back down to the forge."

"And," said Thorin, "I suppose it ties in nicely with Rose's flower name and she was one of the midwives, too." And so, Poppy it was.

.o00o.

There was a certain amount of chaos when they got back. Arion's old cot had to be got out of the barn because the baby hadn't been expected for another two months and this was set up in Thorin and Tauriel's bedroom for the moment. They still hadn't worked out what to do once the baby was old enough to sleep in a room of her own. They had the two children's bedrooms which were accessed through the playroom and Arion and Rose finally agreed that they would give up the playroom so that part of it could be walled off to make a bedroom for Poppy.

Warg and Dog were eyeing each other up bad-temperedly all the time and, in the end, they had a scrap in the yard which, surprisingly, Dog won. This, happily, determined the pecking order and, even when Warg was fully grown, he still let Dog lord it over him. And, now that Dog understood that Warg knew his place, he began to treat him good-naturedly, playing with him and even snuggling down with him when they both felt sleepy.

But, Warg was made to sleep in the stables. The horses next door were restless and unhappy and Arion agreed to start working on that straight away. That night, Warg was shown his bed and a blanket was thrown on the hay. He looked very miserable and just circled around on it, chasing his tail, not able to get comfortable. When Dog realised that Warg was going to be abandoned outside, he voluntarily went to join him and the two settled down together. And when the horses realised that Dog was next door, they seemed a lot happier, sensing that he was in charge.

Well, that's one unexpected advantage, Thorin thought. At least it looks as though we can all sleep on our own without Dog now.

Everyone seemed happy, except Rose. No-one had any time for her. They were all dashing around doing all sorts of important and busy things and she just felt in the way. And when there was a bit of time and calm, all that Tauriel and Thorin wanted to do was coo over the baby, as if she, Rose, no longer existed; and all Arion wanted to do was train up Warg; and all Dog wanted to do was play with Warg and Arion.

And, all Rose wanted was for it to be just like it was before Poppy was born.

.o00o.

It was, in fact, just like going back to square one. Tauriel was in the house looking after the baby; Thorin was in his forge hammering away and Rose was in the yard kicking stones.

"For goodness' sake, Rose," yelled Thorin, "stop fidgeting around out there and come and lend me a hand!"

Part of her was pleased and part of her was grumpy: "Rose, come here and do this! Rose, come here and do that!" She seemed like everyone's skivvy, only valued for what she could do for them. She expected Tauriel to call her into the kitchen soon to help with the cooking. She stomped into the forge and gave Thorin a glare.

Thorin igored her glare because he understood what her problem was. He had often experienced jealousy in his life and he recognised it when he saw it. Poor Rose! He knew the pain of the emotion and he would help her get over it.

Much to Rose's surprise, Thorin didn't want her help; he wanted to teach her something. "How would you like to be a smith like me?" he said. Rose looked up with surprise and her eyes glowed. Ever since Thorin had first demonstrated to her how a sword was made more than two years ago, she had been fascinated by the whole process. She had an innate creative urge which was desperately looking for an outlet and the moment that Thorin asked her if she wanted to be a smith, she knew that this was, indeed, what she wanted to be.

"But, can a girl be a smith?" she asked. "Are girls strong enough?"

"Well," he grinned, "you'll just have to build up the right muscles. And, anyway, you don't have to specialise in beating out iron farming tools – you can concentrate on making jewellery instead." And he brought out some of his beautiful commissions and, for the rest of the afternoon, they worked on them together.

.o00o.

That night, Tauriel and Thorin got into bed with a tired sigh. Poppy slept in the cot next to them and they spoke in quiet whispers.

"We must be mad to start this business all over again," said Thorin. "Did we really think hard enough before becoming parents for a second time?"

"Of course we didn't," laughed Tauriel. "If anyone actually thought about it, Middle-earth would be full of one-child families."

"But she IS very beautiful," said Thorin glancing over at the cot.

"And, in only a year, she'll be sleeping through the night," grinned his wife.

"Do I remember having this conversation before?" Thorin groaned, pulling Tauriel gently towards him.

"On numerous occasions, my love," she replied.

"Well, I suppose," he said, "it gets easier the second time around."

"And number twelve will be a piece of cake," she chuckled.

"Number twelve?" his eyes widened. "Did I say that?"

"Yes, in one of your silly moments, you did."

"Mind you," he said, grinning wickedly, "working hard on producing all those children could be an awful lot of fun. When can we start?"

"Not yet, my love," she said, wincing. "Definitely not yet." And then she seized him firmly by his plaits and gave him a thorough kissing just to make up for the hiatus in their love life.

.o00o.


	13. Chapter 13 Thorin and the Elf Lord

This happens a few months after Poppy has been born. Life is a bit difficult, of course, but Thorin and Tauriel are coping – until something unpleasant that they thought had disappeared from their lives rears its ugly head again. This is the first in a trio of interlinked stories that I have written to cover Poppy's early months and years.

.o00o.

THORIN AND THE ELF LORD

PT I

"I don't think I can go up to the outpost tomorrow," said Tauriel. She was nursing a grizzling Poppy on her breast and was looking very tired. "I'm just not ready to start work yet – Poppy's been so demanding."

"Give her to me," said Thorin. He had just come in from the forge to find his wife looking totally exhausted. Tauriel passed the baby over gratefully and Thorin walked up and down the room with her over his shoulder, humming a deep dwarven song as he went. His daughter quietened very quickly – she seemed to like the thrumming sound that echoed through his chest as he sang. He looked down to see if she had gone to sleep but she lay with her ear against him and opened one eye, staring back up at him.

"Naughty girl," he murmured, but she just gurgled and reached up to grab one of his plaits. "You're as bad as your mother," he grinned. He continued to walk as he spoke to his wife and eventually Poppy nodded off.

"You've got so much patience with her," said Tauriel as he came back from putting her down in her cot. "I'd ask you to stay with the children whilst I went up to the outpost but I just haven't got the energy."

Thorin sat down and drew his wife onto his lap. "Well," he said, "how about it if I go up to the outpost instead for a few days and give them a bit of training? I'm sure they'll be sympathetic and Lostwithiel was saying to me only the other day when he visited that he thought you were trying to go back too soon. Do you think you could manage with just Rose and Arion to help out?"

"I'm sure I can," said the elf, leaning her head upon his chest. "Rose is also very good at getting Poppy to sleep and it would make me feel more comfortable if I knew one of us were up there." She snuggled into his great shoulder and closed her eyes. "And, by the way," she said, "I perfectly understand Poppy's preference for your shoulder over mine. I could fall asleep here myself."

Thorin bent down and nibbled her ear and she raised her face for a kiss.

"'Ere, not in front of the children," grinned Rose as she walked into the room.

"Were you ever a child, Rose?" laughed Thorin. And Tauriel smiled and got up from Thorin's lap.

"I'm thinking of going to the farmhouse for a few days tomorrow," said Thorin. "Your mother's not feeling fit enough yet. Do you think you can help out while I'm away?"

"Of course I can,"said Rose. "I'm not exactly goin' to stand 'ere and watch Tauriel struggle on 'er own, am I?"

And so it was decided.

The next day, Thorin packed his stuff and rode out into the hills of Ered Luin.

"Stay as long as you think necessary, "Tauriel had said on parting. "Don't worry about us."

But Thorin did worry, of course, even though he knew they were all perfectly capable. In many ways, he thought, as he rode along, Poppy had been a lot easier than Arion. They were experienced parents now. Eleven year old Rose was a great help and Poppy, at three months, was just about sleeping through the night already. But, during the day, she hardly slept at all and constantly demanded their attention. Tauriel had taken to carrying her around in a sling which sort of worked, but it was very tiring. They had yet to make love but Thorin held an exhausted Tauriel in his arms every night until she fell asleep. This was the price they had to pay for another child and they were more than willing to pay it. In the end, their time would come and Thorin refused to panic about it.

Thorin could see the farmhouse in the distance and grinned. He really couldn't get over just how much he was looking forward to getting together with a bunch of elves. They really were an attractive group: effective, brave, good-natured and lively. Even that idiot, Lostwithiel, had gone up in his estimation ever since he had helped to deliver Poppy. Thorin was nearly at the point of forgiving him for that farce with his wife. It was hard, but he was getting there.

And they always seemed to be so pleased to see him too. Thorin felt quite touched when he thought of the way they treated him – just like one of their own. And this was no mean feat considering the dislike that usually existed between elves and dwarves which had been intensified by his marriage to Tauriel. Both races had refused to accept them when they first became betrothed. Both had shown revulsion at their union and even Lostwithiel had tried to interfere. But, that was a long time in the past now. Their marriage seemed very well accepted and their beautiful children were the object of much admiration. And the elves at the outpost actually seemed to like him. That was a first, Thorin chuckled to himself.

Thorin was just riding up the last grassy stretch and was wondering what they were cooking for lunch when an elf he didn't recognise suddenly emerged from the bushes, pointing an arrow in his face. "Get down from your horse, dwarf!" he snarled.

"Are you new?" asked Thorin mildly.

"I said get down," repeated the elf in even nastier tones, "or you're a dead dwarf!"

With a sigh, Thorin slowly dismounted.

"Tie your horse to that tree," the elf snapped.

"You do know who I am?" said Thorin as he followed the order.

"Be quiet and just do as you're told," was the response. "I have absolutely no interest in who any dwarf is. Just raise your hands in the air and walk."

If this had happened before he had met Tauriel, Thorin would have thoroughly lost his temper and the elf would now be out cold on the ground. But, he had mellowed. Now, an amused grin lifted the corner of his mouth. This elf was about to be badly embarrassed.

As they entered the courtyard in front of the farmhouse, Lostwithiel came out of the front door. He looked at Thorin, then at his captor with his mouth open, then he strode across the yard and said: "Oh, for goodness' sake, Riel!" And he slapped the bow to one side.

"Can I put my hands down now, Lostwithiel?" asked Thorin politely. The elf lord rolled his eyes.

"What do you think?" he said. Then he turned to Riel. "You do know who this is, don't you?" he said.

"I did try to tell him," said Thorin helpfully in Lostwithiel's ear.

"Of course I don't know," glowered Riel. "How am I expected to know the name of every passing dwarf?"

"Well, you'll soon wish you had known the name of this one," snapped Lostwithiel. "This is Thorin Oakenshield."

"The King under the Mountain?" said Riel, looking a bit taken aback.

"The EX King under the Mountain at your service," said Thorin, with a mocking bow.

An apologetic look was beginning to form on Riel's face but this soon disappeared when Lostwithiel added: "And he's also our captain's husband."

"Tauriel's husband?" he gasped.

"Yes, it's shocking, isn't it?" said Thorin sarcastically. He was just so fed up with this sort of response and had honestly thought that he had seen the back of it.

Riel glared at him, turned on his heel and marched into the farmhouse.

"I'll speak to him," said the elf lord.

"Well, don't be too hard on him," said Thorin with a wry smile. "You lot were just as bad in the beginning."

And Lostwithiel had to guiltily admit that this was so.

As they strolled back down the hill to pick up Thorin's horse, the dwarf asked about the newcomer.

"He's related to Rostrel, a cousin, I think, from Lothlorien. He heard about his life here and decided that he would like to join the troop too. He's only been here a couple of days."

"Ah," said Thorin. "That explains his overenthusiasm on sentry duty."

The horse was stabled and Lostwithiel went off to speak to Riel.

Riel was waiting for him in the office. "Why didn't you warn me?" he said sullenly.

"Because it no longer occurs to any of us that there's anything to warn people about," responded Lostwithiel sharply. "Thorin is one of us. He is a friend and colleague, a great warrior and a fine person. He trains us on a regular basis and, only three months ago, I delivered his daughter." He noticed Riel's jaw drop and the look of distaste that came into his eyes and gave an inward sigh. Yes, he thought, it wasn't so long ago that we all reacted that way and so I suppose we ought to give him a bit of space.

"They have children?" Riel muttered. "What sort of monsters are they?"

Lostwithiel felt like hitting him, so proud as he was of Poppy. "They are the most beautiful children I have ever seen," he hissed through gritted teeth. "A son, a daughter and an adopted daughter, Rose."

Riel had begun to realise just how much offence he was beginning to generate. Rostrel had written to various people in Lothlorien telling them of his life at the outpost and had praised their captain, Tauriel, an elf from Mirkwood. No-one had mentioned that she was married to a dwarf or that they had children. He found the whole thing rather disturbing and he even wondered if he could stay on at the outpost under the circumstances. It was almost unbelievable to him that a whole troop of elves found the situation completely acceptable.

They went to lunch and Riel took a back seat, watching the interaction between the elves and the dwarf. They were all very pleased to see him and they were all very relaxed in his company, laughing and joking and clapping him on the back. They asked him with some concern about their captain and showed a lot of sympathy for her exhaustion. (I bet the dwarf doesn't do much to help, thought Riel.) Then they demanded a blow by blow account of the progress of his new daughter and seemed to take an especial pride in her. They were also keen to know when Arion and his warg would be visiting. His warg?! This family just got stranger and stranger. And there were lots of delighted chuckles and jokes about Rose, the adopted daughter, who sounded like some back-street scum. What was wrong with these elf lords, Riel thought? They should be ashamed of their association with a family that had no right to exist in the first place. He wondered how this Tauriel had come to make such a choice. Perhaps she was scarred or deformed so that no elf would consider her as a bride. How desperate did you need to be before you married a dwarf? Well, he would bite his tongue until he had worked out what was what.

.o00o.

Pt II

That afternoon, Thorin took them all outside to practise shooting their bows from horseback. First they spent a long time improving on their ability to guide their horses with just their legs and knees and then they got out their bows and took turns to gallop past targets, shooting at them on the run. Thorin particularly insisted that they perfect their ability to deliver parting shots over their shoulders.

Riel grudgingly had to admit that Thorin was a good trainer and that, after some hours, he could see their improvement. But then Rostrel went inside and brought out short dwarven bows. "In some ways, they are better than our elven bows," he explained to Riel.

Thorin then proceeded to show them how effective a dwarven bow could be from the back of a horse. "Because of their compact size," continued Rostrel, "they're easier to handle, particularly if you're twisting around and firing over your shoulder."

But Riel refused to be convinced. The bows seemed barbaric and he could hardly bear to handle the one he had been given. These soldiers were betraying their own culture, he thought to himself, and he hated Thorin for corrupting his fellow elves.

Later that afternoon, while they were all having a rest in the shade, he tried to discuss this with Lithin. "Don't you feel it somehow inappropriate that all of you are so heavily influenced by a dwarf?" he asked.

Lithin blinked at him. "But he is such a marvellous person to emulate," he said and Riel couldn't believe what he was hearing. What was this dwarf's power? Was he using magic arts? What other explanation could there be that he held so many in thrall?

The evening passed pleasantly but Thorin noticed that Riel sat glowering in the shadows and he wondered how long it would take the elf to get over himself.

The next day, Thorin had them practising with a weapon in each hand. The only weapons they usually held in both hands were killing knives, otherwise they fought with a sword. But Thorin wanted them to try sword and axe together. The axe was his own weapon of choice and it was often considered to be a peculiarly dwarven one.

All of them, except Riel, had great fun trying to wield these two weapons at once and when they were all finally gasping on the ground with the tremendous effort it required to be effective and they had all admired Thorin giving a light-footed demonstration of how to do things properly, Lostwithiel laughed and said that he wasn't going to let it defeat him but would start on a weight-lifting regime straight away. Thorin clapped him on the shoulder and admired his determination.

But Riel just became angrier. Why should elves learn how to fight like dwarves? Thorin was just trying to demean them and make them feel inadequate. He hated the dwarf and he even hated the rest of them for being so weak-willed that they allowed this creature to push them around and tell them what to do.

The conversation turned back to Poppy once more. She had been born whilst Tauriel had been visiting the outpost and they all felt very attached to the new baby.

"You know, Thorin," said Lostwithiel, "we never really wetted the baby's head. Don't you think that those of us who are free should take you down to the Grey Havens this evening and have a good drinking session there? We could come back tomorrow morning."

Thorin wasn't so sure because the town always spelled trouble for him but they insisted and drew straws to see which of them should accompany him.

In the end, it was Lostwithiel, Lithin, Riel, Borondin and Rostrel who were the lucky ones and they all set out with Thorin late that afternoon.

When they arrived, they went off to the Silver Bear which had a reputation for good food. "Let's line our stomachs first," said Lithin. But Riel asked to be excused.

"I want to visit the couple who housed me when I first came to the Grey Havens six weeks ago. I'd like to see them again. They'll probably feed me and I'll catch up with the rest of you in a couple of hours," he said.

But when he left the Silver Bear, Riel did not set out immediately for the residential area but for the back streets of the town where he hunted down an apothecary whom he had chanced to meet soon after his arrival. He bought an expensive phial of something interesting from him and only then went in search of the kindly couple who had given him bed and board.

Several hours later, back in the Silver Bear, Riel found everyone in a jolly mood. They had all had a good meal and little Poppy's head was being wetted more times than she might have wished. "Let me buy a round," said Riel and he went off to collect them all their choice of drinks. He set the round out on a tray and then carefully let one drop of purple liquid fall from the phial into Thorin's glass. The elves and the dwarf all downed their drinks without Thorin detecting that his had been tampered with. Riel smiled to himself.

From then on, he generously bought round after round and also instigated a drinking competition which Thorin won amidst lots of cheering. Thorin was getting drunker and drunker but the elves knew, from experience, that he just got charmingly maudlin and usually had them all laughing. But tonight it was different. He began to glower into his cup and spoke sharply when any of them asked if he were all right.

"Of course I'm all right," he snapped. "Are you suggesting that a dwarf can't hold his drink as well as an elf?" Rostrel, who had asked the question, looked quite taken aback as Thorin slapped him down.

"N-n-o," Rostrel stuttered. "I was just asking."

"Then stop asking stupid questions and buy me another drink," Thorin growled.

"I think, perhaps that you've had enough," said Lostwithiel gently.

"A dwarf has never had enough," was the response. "And if you're too mean to buy me a drink then I'll get one myself." And he staggered off to the bar.

The elves looked at each other in dismay. The evening was not going as they had planned. On his return journey to the table, an unsteady Thorin knocked against another customer, a great hulking fellow, and spilled his drink all over him. "You idiot!" yelled the dwarf. "Now look what you've made me do!" And, before the startled man could respond, Thorin knocked him flat on his back with a vicious swing to the jaw.

The man's friends leapt to their feet, spoiling for a fight; the bartender moved threateningly from behind his bar with a large cudgel in his hand. But the elves also sprang forward and, full of apologies, pinioned Thorin's arms and dragged him outside to the yard. The cold air hit him like a sledgehammer and he collapsed in a heap on the ground.

The elves stood there wide-eyed. "Well, I've never seen him behave like that before," said Lithin. "Now what do we do?" And he nodded towards the crumpled form of the dwarf.

"We could stay at the inn," suggested Rostrel.

"I doubt if they'll let us back in," Riel interjected quickly. "But they might rent us that cart," he said, nodding to a small wagon, "and we could get him back to the outpost." He wanted Thorin back at the farmhouse mixing with as many of the elf-lords as possible.

And so they rented the cart and plodded back home, chatting in a desultory way amongst themselves.

"Why on earth did he behave like that?" asked Lostwithiel. "It was so out of character."

"We just got him a bit too drunk," said Lithin, pulling a face.

"I reckon it was his dwarven side making itself known," said Riel.

"And what do you mean by that?" snapped Lostwithiel. He was pretty confident that Riel was having a go at his friend.

Riel shrugged. "Well, dwarves have a tendency to be bad-tempered and violent and that was a good demonstration tonight of dwarven character as far as I can tell."

They all leapt to Thorin's defence but Riel refused to be drawn any further and they all descended into a moody silence.

.o00o.

Pt III

When they got back to the outpost in the early hours, Riel volunteered to help Lostwithiel put Thorin to bed. "He'll be dehydrated when he wakes up tomorrow morning," said Riel. "I'll fetch him some water." And he placed a mug of water, carefully adulterated with a purple droplet, by the side of the bed.

When Thorin surfaced the next day, he felt dreadful. He had a massive hangover – and then some. He reached for the water and drained the mug. Then he lay back on his pillow and closed his eyes. "How on earth did that happen?" he thought as his head throbbed and he tried to remember details of the previous evening.

The more he thought about things, the more he blamed the elf lords. They had practically poured drink down his throat with no concern at all for the state they were getting him into. Some friends! He wondered why he mixed with them. They were stupid elves and he might have known that they weren't to be trusted. They had probably deliberately got him drunk so that he would make a fool of himself. And then that hulk of a man had made him spill his drink. He had really deserved that punch he had given him. Thorin remembered with satisfaction the sensation of his fist crunching against the man's chin. He had enjoyed that. It was a really good feeling and perhaps he ought to punch a few more people a bit more often. He treated himself to some pleasurable thoughts about which of the elves he would like to punch and decided that there were so many of them that they would have to form an orderly queue.

Thorin finally dragged himself out of bed and down to breakfast. "How're you feeling, Thorin?" asked Borondin cheerfully.

"How the hell do you think I'm feeling?" snarled the dwarf. Borondin was taken aback. The bad humour still seemed to be lingering on even though he must be sober now.

"Sorry," he said and he scuttled away to the stables with his bowl of porridge in the hope of finding more amiable company there.

"Hi, there!" said Lostwithiel as he bounced into the kitchen. "I bet your head hurts this morning!"

"Too damn right it does, you stupid elf!" came the retort. "And if you're not careful, you'll get that punch on the nose I've been promising myself I'd give you for a long time now."

Lostwithiel was shocked but also concerned by Thorin's nasty response. Where was this anger coming from? What was causing it? Surely it wasn't still to do with all that heavy drinking last night? Perhaps Thorin would pull himself together as the day advanced. But he couldn't help but think about the remark that Riel had made about his dwarven behaviour.

When Thorin was feeling a bit better later that morning, he took them all out for a practice with staves. He considered that being able to fight with weapons that were not, in fact, proper weapons a very important skill. He himself had attacked the three trolls that he had met on his adventure with a brand pulled from the fire and he had also picked up a hollow log and used it as a shield when his own had shattered. A simple staff could be a lethal weapon if his pupils could learn to use it properly.

But, this particular morning, they all seemed to be really clumsy and slow. He took on one after the other and they were so pathetic that he got in strike after strike on their arms, legs and head without them managing to hit him once.

To the elves, Thorin seemed to be behaving like a demon. He growled and roared at them and his staff spun so quickly that it was a blur. And it really, REALLY hurt! He was supposed to be teaching them but, instead, he just seemed to be using them as his whipping boys.

"Right, Thorin, that's enough," Lostwithiel finally panted. His arms and legs were covered in bruises and he was far from being happy with this particular lesson. "I think it's about time you showed us how to use our staves rather than just hitting us with your own."

"What's the matter, elf?" sneered Thorin. "Can't you stand a little pain? Just come a bit closer, if you dare."

And Lostwithiel clutched his staff and dared to move closer. For a short time, the elf put up a good defence, parrying Thorin's vicious blows with some skill. But Thorin became more and more aggressive until, finally, he caught Lostwithiel such a thump around the ankles that he was swept to the ground. As he lay there, groaning, the dwarf descended upon him and began beating him around the shoulders with the heavy stick. "Get up, you coward," he yelled, as he rained blow after blow down upon him.

"He'll kill him!" gasped Lithin in horror and he stepped forward with his own staff in an attempt to deflect Thorin's weapon. But Thorin turned on him instead and brought his stick down upon Lithin's hand with a vicious sweep. Lithin screamed and clutched his hand to his chest. "You've broken my fingers!" he yelled.

The others were horrified and leaped forward between the two, their hands upraised. Thorin threw his staff down on the ground in disgust and marched off into the farmhouse.

The elves faced each other for a moment in horrified silence. "I don't know what his problem is," said Lostwithiel, as he was helped to his feet and Lithin was taken away for treatment, "but I think it's about time he went home."

"Yes," said Riel, "his face full of concern, "but we're sending him home to a woman and three children. I, for one, think that a couple of us ought to go with him until we know how he treats them."

They all nodded their heads in agreement. "I don't mind volunteering," continued Riel. "I've got a reason to visit the forge. I've yet to meet our captain."

They were all in agreement again. They didn't want Thorin to think that they were stalking him.

"And I'm always visiting to see Poppy," said Lostwithiel. "It won't seem odd if I volunteer too." And he limped off to his room to strap his ankles before confronting Thorin.

He did this as tactfully as possible. "I think the men have had enough for the day," he told the dwarf. "They still haven't recovered from our drinking session last night." A sneer appeared on Thorin's face. "And so, a couple of us would like to come back to the forge with you. Riel hasn't met Tauriel and," he said with a smile, "you know I'm always looking for an excuse to see your beautiful daughter."

"Suit yourself," said Thorin with a shrug.

And so, a few hours later, after some food, they all set off for the forge.

They rode in silence. Thorin seemed in no mood to talk to either of them and nor did they dare talk to him. Thorin was thinking that his head still hurt and that he wished that he were travelling on his own.

On the other hand, did he want to go home? There was that wretched baby grizzling and crying, making demands on his time during the day and keeping him awake at night. And there was his son who only seemed interested in discussing his warg. A warg! How weird was that? And Thorin wondered whether or not he should kill it as his first instinct had told him to. He had been too generous when he had allowed the boy to keep it.

And then there was Rose. That slut was always having a go at him. He had taken her in and fed and clothed her and yet she was always answering him back impudently. A good beating might set her right.

And his wife! Well, what was he to expect from an elf? She was weak. She spoiled the children, went easy on her troops up at the base and had refused to sleep with him since Poppy was born. Things were going to change in that department. She had run circles around him and he had been a fool to tolerate the situation for so long. And the more he thought about Tauriel, the more he found his desire for her increasing.

Lostwithiel felt only apprehension as they approached the forge. Things were not looking good. Thorin had ridden in sullen silence for the last couple of hours and he dreaded what would happen when they reached home.

Riel just smiled to himself. He didn't think it would take many more days for the elves to decide that they no longer wanted anything more to do with their weapons trainer and he was optimistic that he could throw a very big spanner in the works as far as Thorin's family were concerned.

They all dismounted as they entered the yard and Tauriel came smiling to the door.

"Where are the children?" asked Lostwithiel.

"Poppy's asleep and the other two are fishing down at the river," she replied. "I'm having a few quiet moments."

"Not for much longer," said Thorin and he swept her up into his arms and marched with her into the house.

"What are you doing?" giggled Tauriel, startled but amused.

"You'll soon find out," said Thorin, pushing open the bedroom door with his shoulder.

Lostwithiel stood with his mouth open.

"Is this normally how he behaves with his wife?" asked Riel.

"This is normally how he would LIKE to behave with his wife," murmured Lostwithiel, "but he's certainly much too polite to do so."

Then Poppy started to cry. "I'll look after her," said Lostwithiel, setting out for the baby's room. "You go down to the river, Riel. Introduce yourself. Keep them busy down there – you know, show a massive interest in fishing or something." And then the elf disappeared off into the house.

.o00o.

In the bedroom, Tauriel was lying there feeling rather stunned. Thorin was asleep and snoring by her side and she wasn't quite sure what to make of what had just happened. He had been intense and passionate but strangely distant and even rough. And the way he had swept her away right under the noses of her guests... She began to squirm with embarrassment at the thought of facing them again. She got up slowly from the bed and, tidying away the pile of torn clothing on the floor, got herself a fresh outfit from the cupboard.

Then, tentatively, she went to the door and took a deep breath before emerging into the hall. Lostwithiel was sitting there nursing Poppy and a flush travelled up Tauriel's neck. Lostwithiel broke the uncomfortable silence.

"He's been acting very strangely at the outpost," he said, "which is why we didn't think it was safe to let him come home on his own."

"Safe!" exclaimed Tauriel. "What on earth are you talking about?" She asked the question and yet she knew what the elf was talking about. Thorin had definitely felt very unsafe in her bed.

Lostwithiel made her sit down and then told her what had been happening since their evening at the Silver Bear. "He broke Lithin's fingers?" she gasped.

"And he nearly broke my ankles," said Lostwithiel and they both looked down at the strapping he had put on earlier.

"You're frightening me," she said. "What's happened to him?"

And then he told her about the conversation he had had with Riel and explained that he was a new member of the troop. "He's entertaining the children at the moment," he said. "He'll be along soon and you can have a chat with him."

"What must he think of me?" said Tauriel, blushing again.

"He won't think anything," said Lostwithiel, "because he's already witnessed Thorin's strange behaviour."

.o00o.

Pt IV

Riel was walking back to the forge from the river. He had entertained Rose and Arion very successfully and he was their new best friend. The elf lord had been feeling rather confused ever since seeing Tauriel. She was not deformed or ugly – in fact, she was an extraordinarily beautiful woman. Why she had been attracted to Thorin was completely beyond him and her loveliness – totally wasted on the dwarf – persuaded him even more strongly that there was a need to break up this marriage.

He thought about the way Thorin had swept her off to the bedroom as soon as he had set eyes on her. The dwarf was a barbarian, he thought, conveniently forgetting the part his little phial of purple liquid had played in that event. And now they were returning to the forge to witness the next act in the drama that he was so cunningly creating.

When they reached the hall house, they entered hand in hand and Arion excitedly introduced Riel to Tauriel who smiled and thanked him for looking after her children. She had calmed down by then and managed not to blush. "Has she no shame?" thought Riel.

"Where's father?" asked Arion.

"Oh, just having a little nap," his mother answered. And so Arion got out his ranks of toy elves and orcs and played with them quietly in the middle of the room. But Poppy, who had been nursed all this time by Lostwithiel, began to wake up and no amount of jiggling or rocking or back-patting would pacify her.

In the end, Thorin came stomping out of his bedroom and yelled: "For goodness' sake, is no-one going to shut that brat up?"

"Thorin!" cried Tauriel aghast.

"You're spoiling her," he snapped. "Why on earth don't you just put her down in her cot to scream? She'll soon shut up when she's learned that no-one will come!" And he strode forward to snatch the baby from Lostwithiel's arms.

Tauriel leaped to her feet and stood between him and her child so that Thorin was forced to move sideways, stepping, as he did so, on a couple of Arion's toy soldiers, crunching them underfoot. Arion jumped to his feet and yelled in distress: "Now look what you've done!"

Thorin glared down at him and then slowly and deliberately trod on several ranks of soldiers, grinding them with his boot.

Arion flew at his father, pummelling him on the chest and screaming, but Thorin just seized him by the scruff of the neck and flung him across the room. Tauriel ran to scoop up the crying Arion and rushed outside with him, closely followed by Lostwithiel who was still clutching Poppy in his arms. Thorin just threw himself down in a chair and snarled at Rose, "Get me a drink, you useless creature, or you'll get a back-hander too!"

"Don't worry," whispered Riel to her. "I'll fetch it. You go and join your mother." And he made for the kitchen, fingering the phial in his pocket.

But Rose backed quietly into a corner and studied Thorin thoughtfully. He had just behaved like a totally different person from the one she knew he was and in that wretched time before, that time when she had lived with her father, she had seen similar unnatural changes of behaviour in back-street taverns and these had been induced by something dropped in an unsuspecting victim's drink. It pumped them up; it made them angry and violent. And she wondered why anyone would want to do this to Thorin. But, done it someone definitely had and she could see that his pupils were like pin-pricks.

"What're you staring at?" Thorin shouted at her.

"I'm just waiting to help Riel," she said quietly and he turned away.

Riel brought in a tray with a mug of wine on it. He set it on the table and Rose leaped up to hand it to Thorin . "Here you are," she said and she grabbed the mug but stumbled as she stretched out her hand and dropped it on the floor. Both Thorin and Riel cursed and Thorin aimed a clout at her. But she was ready and she ducked. "I'll fetch you some more," she said and, picking up the mug, she raced out to the kitchen.

"Next time," thought Riel and made his exit into the yard in order to stir things with Tauriel.

Tauriel was outside, sitting on the bench with Lostwithiel and Poppy. She had sent Arion off to the stables to have a cuddle with Dog and Warg whilst she thought about what best to do. She was stunned by what had just happened and tears were rolling down her cheeks.

Riel sat down next to her and took her hand. "I'm afraid I've seen something like this happen before," he said gently. "I knew a dwarf who was forced to live with elves and men instead of with his own kind. He was a decent fellow and we all liked him. But, one day, he went totally berserk – he was very strong and he hurt a lot of people."

"But why?" whispered Tauriel.

"He had repressed his dwarven nature for so long," came the answer, "trying to fit in with two totally different cultures, that, one day, it just drove him mad and he became someone completely different from what he had been before. His dwarven characteristics – the temper and the violence – became exaggerated."

"And what happened to him?" Tauriel asked anxiously.

"I'm afraid," said Riel with a good show of compassion, "that he never returned to being the dwarf we had known and loved before. He became very dangerous and we had to send him away."

Tauriel felt sick. She remembered Thorin trying to tell them, just before Poppy was born, that he was a dangerous person to be with. And, perhaps this is what he had meant. Her world was crashing around her and she couldn't bear it. "What shall I do?" she asked, clinging onto Riel's hand as if he knew the answer.

"If you care for the safety of your children," he said sadly, "and for your own safety," and he gently touched the fresh bruises on her arm, "then you must pack quickly and seek refuge somewhere like Rivendell."

Tauriel looked horrified as Lostwithiel began to nod his head in agreement. But, before the matter could be discussed any further, a sweating horse galloped into the yard and Darri, Rose's dwarven friend, jumped from the saddle. "Thank goodness you're all here!" he gasped. "Didn't you see the flare go up? There's a pack of orcs to the east of you, burning down farmhouses and setting fire to the crops." And he pointed to the eastern sky. "Look, you can see the smoke from here!"

Thorin and Rose had appeared at the door. "What are we waiting for?" Thorin said. Then he and Riel dashed for their weapons and their horses whilst Lostwithiel handed Poppy to Rose and followed them closely behind. Tauriel called Darri to her and asked him to stay with Rose and the children because she felt that the troop would need her presence too and then, grabbing her bow and her knives, she also made for the stables.

They turned east at the crossroads and galloped at speed towards the smoke cloud that loomed before them. The orcs had obviously circled around from the north and, on the road, they met the occasional refugee from the farmhouses fleeing before them. "They caught us by surprise," they said.

Thorin had begun to feel a bit better. The headache that had persisted since the session at the Silver Bear had lifted and he was managing to focus in a way that he had been unable to do for the past 24 hours. Recent events seemed a bit of a blur and he had vague memories of shouting a lot and striking out at just about everyone. These memories were as confusing as a bad dream and, as he rode, he shook his head in an attempt to clear it. There was a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He was sure that he had done some unforgiveable things to those who were dearest to him but, at the moment, he couldn't remember exactly what. It hurt to dredge through these thoughts and so he pushed it all to the back of his mind and concentrated on the battle to come.

They passed half a dozen more refugees, farm labourers armed with mallets and sickles. "They're just at the next farm," they said. "There were too many for us but now you've come, it's a more equal fight." And they turned around and came with the riders.

A group of about 30 orcs were burning hayricks as they approached the farm. Thorin and Lostwithiel nocked their dwarven bows and rode into their midst whilst Tauriel and Riel shot their elven bows from the side-lines. Riel had to admit that the dwarven bows, which were being very skilfully used by the elf lord and the dwarf, had a devastating effect and, by the time the two of them had ridden through the attacking mob, at least ten lay dead on the ground. And then, having exhausted their arrows, all four leaped from their horses and drew their weapons. Tauriel had her knives, Lostwithiel and Riel wielded their swords and Thorin unhitched both Orcrist and his axe. The six labourers barrelled in behind them, bravely defending the warriors' backs.

The orcs fell before them but, suddenly, Thorin noticed out of the corner of his eye that Riel was trying to fight off three attackers and so he quickly despatched his own enemy and rushed to the elf's aid. And none too soon. Two of them had pinned him to the ground and the third was about to run him through. But, swinging both his weapons, Thorin decapitated two with his axe and killed the third with his sword. Riel lay wide-eyed upon the ground as the three bodies dropped around him. Thorin grinned and pulled him to his feet. "It's all over," he said.

They praised the labourers for their courage. "You did well," said Thorin and they all looked very pleased with themselves.

And then they rode back to the forge.

Darri and the children came rushing out to meet them and Tauriel gathered Rose and Arion into her arms. Thorin stepped forward laughing and opened his arms to Arion but the boy backed away. Thorin looked confused although an inkling of what he had done began to surface. But Rose took him by the shoulders and stared carefully into his eyes. And then she gave him a hug. Turning to Tauriel who was standing by with an apprehensive look on her face, she said, "He's all right now." And then Tauriel came hesitantly forward and kissed him in relief.

"Your father is back to normal, Arion," she said. And Thorin picked his son up and Arion buried his face in his father's neck.

"I'll get us all a celebratory drink," said Riel with a forced voice and he rushed off to get a tray.

When he returned, he handed Thorin a mug first. "No," said Rose. "I think that one's yours." They all turned to Rose in surprise but Rose stood firm. "Drink it, Riel," she said. The elf hesitated and then put the mug slowly down.

"You've guessed," he said. "And that's why you spilled the drink earlier today." Rose nodded.

"What's going on, Rose?" said Tauriel.

"Riel has been drugging Thorin and I'd like to know why," the girl replied.

Everyone gaped and all eyes turned back to the elf lord.

For a moment, Riel looked embarrassed and then he tossed his head arrogantly. "What I did was for everyone's benefit," he said. "This dwarf" – and he almost spat out the word – "has no right to be a part of our elven troop and he certainly has no right to be married to one of us or to produce children. Instead of feeling shame, you let him control your lives," he said, turning to Lostwithiel. "And you," he continued, casting a disgusted look at Tauriel, "share a bed with him." Tauriel drew herself up and slipped an arm around her husband. "You have forgotten your dignity and your culture and so I gave him a drug that just enhanced his natural tendencies so that your eyes would be opened and you would cast him off."

"But he saved your life!" exclaimed Tauriel.

"A dog could save my life," said the elf. "I owe him nothing."

"I think," said Lostwithiel quietly, "that you'd better collect your stuff from the outpost and leave."

"Don't worry," said Riel. "I have no intention of staying. But, let me tell you," he continued as his eyes swept over them scornfully, "Galadriel will hear of this when I get back to Lothlorien."

"And Galadriel will rejoice at your tidings," said Lostwithiel. "Her mind is great enough to be glad that such friendships and love exist here in Ered Luin between elf and dwarf."

Then Riel turned on his heel and left.

Thorin looked very upset. "You can't win 'em all," said Lostwithiel sadly. And then they all had a group hug.

.o00o.

That night, as he lay in Tauriel's arms, Thorin wept as he gradually remembered all the dreadful things he had said and done.

"But that wasn't you, Thorin. It was the drug," said Tauriel gently.

Thorin wasn't convinced. "Riel said that the drug just enhanced who you really are. And so it was still me but in an exaggerated form."

"Rubbish!" she said firmly. "It didn't exaggerate but changed you completely. You are absolutely nothing like that monster we saw today."

And with gentle kisses and soft words, she gradually eased his pain and wiped away his tears and then Thorin was himself again.

.o00o.


	14. Chapter 14 Thorin and the Flood

After Riel, the elf lord, messed with Thorin's life in last week's story, there are ramifications. Are they what you might expect?

.o00o.

THORIN AND THE FLOOD  
Pt I

Tauriel lay in bed wide awake. She hadn't felt so upset since she had found Thorin half-naked on the floor with the dwarf-woman, Kagris, in his arms. That had been a shock but it had been resolved in a matter of hours. This situation had been going on for months and still showed no signs of resolution. It had happened again tonight – as it happened every night. She had climbed into bed with Thorin and had tried to take him in her arms; but he had given her a quick peck on the cheek and had then turned his back on her. There had been moments in their life together when they had both lain there, pretending to be asleep. But he wasn't pretending and his snoring both distressed and irritated her.

She moulded herself to his back and stroked his powerful arms. He was so beautiful - the love of her life – and she wanted him to turn towards her and give her that lovely, sensuous smile; and then she wanted him to crush her to his great chest and whisper those naughty things he always did in that deep, vibrant voice, things that always made her giggle and lifted her heart and made her feel the most desirable elf in Middle-earth. But his back remained firmly turned.

After Poppy had been born nearly 10 months ago, they had both accepted that love-making probably wouldn't happen until she was sleeping through the night and they weren't so utterly exhausted with parenthood. As had happened after Arion, it was Tauriel who fell asleep in Thorin's arms the moment her head touched the pillow and Thorin had been patient and supportive. But, when Poppy was three months, there had been that ugly incident in their lives when Thorin had been preyed upon by the elf lord, Riel, and he had swept her off to the bedroom and made love to her very roughly in a drugged state. That had interrupted their progress towards normality for a while. Then, at six months, Poppy began to sleep through and her days were also becoming more regulated. Thorin and Tauriel managed to snatch the odd passionate kiss together and life seemed to be returning to normal.

It was about this time that Tauriel, getting ready for bed one night, suddenly realised that she no longer felt sucked dry by the demands of motherhood but that she was ready to return to her old life which involved being both a wife and a lover. She grinned to herself and slid under the sheets without donning her nightgown. This would give Thorin a pleasant surprise, she thought. Thorin was checking on their three sleeping children and when he got into bed ten minutes' later, he laughed delightedly. "Ah," he sighed, drawing her to him, "does this mean that my patience is at last being rewarded?"

"Yes," she smiled. "You certainly deserve a present for being such a perfect husband and father." And she seized him by the plaits and pulled his mouth down upon her own. She had kissed him long and passionately and he seemed to return her passion in equal measure but, suddenly, he had gently kissed her hair and stroked her face and said apologetically that he was the tired one tonight and then he had turned over and gone to sleep.

Poor Thorin, she had thought. But, the next night it had been the same. And the night after that he was already asleep when she had got into bed. And the night after that he had taken so long to come to bed that she had fallen asleep waiting for him. And the following night, he had pecked her on the cheek and turned his back on her without even a preliminary cuddle. And so it had gone on for months now.

Tauriel had at first told herself to show the same kind of patience that Thorin had been showing her all this time. How could she complain? But, in the end, after eight weeks of this had gone by, she tried to speak to him. He was lying with his back to her as usual but she pressed herself against him and slid her arm around his waist. "Thorin, my love," she whispered, and Thorin grunted. "I don't feel tired any more when we come to bed at night." And she covered his shoulders with little kisses. Then she told him how much she loved him and how much she wanted and needed him. She spoke quite eloquently for at least five minutes...And then she realised that he was fast asleep.

And so she had gone back to waiting patiently for him.

During the day, life seemed quite normal. He played and laughed with the children and helped teach Poppy how to walk. He worked hard in his forge and occasionally spent time in the Grey Havens collecting new commissions. He looked after the children whilst she went up to the outpost and Tauriel occasionally looked after them whilst he put in a bit of weapons training with her men. He smiled and chatted with her and helped her around the house when he could. But, at night, he turned away and fell quickly asleep. Sometimes, in the early hours of the morning, she would be awoken by Thorin showing signs of sleepy desire but, when she eagerly responded, he would gradually draw away from her and eventually turn his back once more.

Tauriel began to wonder if it was just tiredness that lay behind all this or whether or not there was another problem. She knew she ought to speak to him again but it was proving a difficult subject to raise. There never seemed an appropriate moment during the day with three children running in and out and he fell asleep so quickly at night.

Once, when Dis was visiting, helping with the children as usual, she had almost discussed things with this most sensible dwarf woman.

"Did you have trouble with your, er, love-life, Dis, after the boys were born?" she ventured one day.

"You mean, with tiredness? Like you had with Arion? You're not still tired after all these months, are you?" she asked.

"Umm, no," Tauriel replied.

"That's good," said Dis in an absent-minded way. And it somehow seemed wrong for Tauriel to discuss her husband's problems, so she had stopped there.

But Dis had thought about things after this brief conversation, and, good woman that she was, tried to help the couple out. One day, whilst she was at the forge, Thorin came in from working on his commissions to eat lunch only to find Dis waiting for him and Tauriel with a basket.

"I've packed some lovely food for you," she said. "Why don't you two take a break and go and have a picnic down by the river? I'll keep the children occupied," she added pointedly.

Tauriel smiled her thanks. What a thoughtful thing for Dis to do! But she noticed that Thorin didn't look half as keen.

"I've got to get some jewellery finished," he muttered.

"Oh, tosh!" said Dis. "Go and soak up some of this lovely sunshine and have a paddle or something. It'll give you the energy to work a bit longer this evening." And she pushed them out the door.

It was totally beautiful by the side of the river. It had been raining all the previous week and now the water ran pure and clear over the stones. When Tauriel opened the basket to get out the food, she saw, with a grin, that Dis had also packed a couple of towels. She held them up gleefully. "Let's go for a swim," she said. "It'll be just like that time when we were first betrothed and we camped beside the river on our way to Thranduil's palace!" And she gave him a look from under her lashes.

"You can take a dip if you like," said Thorin. "I think I'll eat first." And he sat down under a tree.

Well, thought Tauriel, if you won't join me then I shall have to give you something worth looking at.

And she blithely stripped off all her clothing and skipped down to the river where she splashed in the shallows and flicked water at Thorin. She looked quite spectacularly beautiful but, when Thorin made no move to join her and she began to feel cold, she strolled back up to where he was sitting and threw herself down on the grass next to him. He seemed to be concentrating on eating his sandwich and so she reached out her hand and squeezed his thigh.

"You should get dry now," he said, "before you catch your death of cold," and he draped one of the towels around her shoulders. She made one more attempt, standing up and slowly drying herself in front of him. But his eyes flickered away from her and she finally gave up, got dressed and sat down with him to eat some food. He seemed to relax then and chatted to her amiably until they had finished eating and it was time to return to the forge.

"Was that nice?" asked Dis.

"Yes, very nice," he said and then he returned to his work.

"Thank you, Dis," said Tauriel quietly and Dis wondered what had happened down on the river bank.

.o00o.

Pt II

Tauriel's next thought – although she shied away from thinking it – was that there was another woman in Thorin's life. She found this almost impossible to believe when she thought about the depth of their love but, perhaps, after she had been so tired and had fallen asleep herself night after night, Thorin had become lonely. He had had plenty of opportunities to meet new women down in the Grey Havens where he went regularly on his own and she felt the need to chase this up. She had another chat with Dis who volunteered to look after the children once more whilst Tauriel accompanied Thorin on his next trip to the Grey Havens. "I need a little break," she said to him and she thought he looked a bit unhappy at her news.

The journey there was quite miserable. It was raining heavily again and their horses plodded wretchedly through the downpour and the mud. It seemed as though there had scarcely been a dry day in the past few months.

It was a relief to get to the Elf and Orc, a reasonable inn near the town centre. Thorin avoided the Mithril Crown since his bad experience in the rear yard when he had been attacked and battered and warned off the ladies of the town and this place had been recommended to him. Well, it's clean, he thought, as he looked around the simple room. And, more importantly, the bed was large. He wouldn't have to press too closely to Tauriel.

He had an invitation to a social gathering that night and this was where he hoped to pick up a few more commissions. Perhaps Tauriel could use her beauty and charm to encourage a few potential customers, he thought, so her presence wasn't entirely an inconvenience. But, he wished she hadn't come.

They had brought appropriate clothing with them and they decked themselves out in all their finery that evening and set off for a substantial house owned by one of the rich burghers of the town. Thorin was soon mixing with those who had given him work in the past and who wanted a bit more from him and with those who had been recommended by his old customers. Tauriel watched from the sidelines. Most of his old customers were men, she noted, but she paid particular attention to the women, on the lookout for any suspicious behaviour.

Suddenly, a middle-aged man sidled up to her. He was very richly dressed but he was big and burly and not the sort of person that she would normally have associated with. "The name's Ned Dawkins and you, I believe, are married to Thorin Oakenshield."

She nodded in surprise and he continued, looking across the room to where Thorin was standing: "My daughter, Elspeth, is here tonight so this is just a warning. Keep your eye on your husband and make sure he doesn't get up to any of his old tricks." And he nodded across the room to where a strapping but good-looking girl in her twenties was standing. "She still can't keep her eyes off him," he growled. "And, for all I know, he still can't keep his hands off her. You might not know it but I caught them with their clothes half off once, and in my own house. So, I'm relying on you, madam, to keep them apart." He moved away then, leaving Tauriel standing in shocked silence. The man was right. Elspeth was staring hotly at Thorin and seemed unable to tear her eyes away.

Tauriel felt sick. When they had moved into the town temporarily a few years ago, Thorin had charmed all the ladies of the town one night with his singing. And then, one evening, he had returned home with bruised ribs and a battered face, saying that he had been given a warning by a group of husbands and fathers to get out of the Grey Havens. And so, they had left, but it had never occurred to Tauriel that Thorin was anything more than an innocent victim. And now, she was not so sure.

Elspeth began to move across the room, making her way towards Thorin but Tauriel got to his side first. "I'm very tired," she whispered in his ear. "Are you ready to go back to the inn yet?" Thorin was ready and he bowed to his customers and made arrangements to visit them individually the next day. But Elspeth blocked their exit route.

"Hello, Thorin," she said in a silly, sultry voice, totally ignoring Tauriel. "Are you going? What a pity we can't spend some time together this evening." Thorin flushed and, looking very uncomfortable, muttered some social niceties and edged his wife from the room.

"Who was that woman?" Tauriel couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, no-one," he muttered. "Just someone called Elspeth, the daughter of a ship-owner in the town. I did a small amount of work for her once." And then he changed the subject.

Back at the inn, their night together was no different from what it was at home. And Tauriel lay awake thinking miserable thoughts.

The next morning, Thorin paid a few visits to discuss commissions and then they set off back to the forge in the bucketing rain once more. Tauriel gave her husband a bit of a verbal poke: "Are you glad I came with you?" she said.

"Yes," he grunted without conviction and Tauriel didn't believe him.

Once they were back home and Dis had left, Tauriel tried to shake off her suspicions. She was a modest person but even she could appreciate that she was much more beautiful than Elspeth. And yet, whispered a little voice, Elspeth, although human, had that junoesque earthiness that was a sought after feature of dwarven beauty and perhaps Thorin had been reminded of his first infatuation with Kagris. And, what was the use of a beautiful elf in your bed if she had spent months tired and asleep instead of awake and willing? She wondered if she had lost him then and if it was too late to win him back. But she refused to give up and so she tried again.

The next night, she got the children off to bed, changed into an attractively clinging dress, cooked a delicious late supper and cracked open a bottle of the best wine: not too much, though, she thought as she poured him a glass. Then she asked him to play on his harp whilst she danced for him. He had seen her dance for the first time at Thranduil's palace and it had aroused his desire for her. She hadn't danced for him since but tonight seemed like an excellent moment. And she grinned to herself.

Thorin played a slow and sensuous tune and he became glued to her performance. Before he had reached the end of the music, his fingers began to tremble and he stumbled to a halt. They gazed at each other longingly in the candlelight and then he picked her up and carried her to their room. "At last," thought Tauriel and a huge wave of relief washed over her.

They lay together on the bed, looking passionately into each other's eyes and then they kissed fiercely. Thorin rolled on top of her and Tauriel, fumbling with his buttons, almost ripped his shirt from his shoulders . But, as he also tore away at her clothing, his pace began to slacken until he was gently kissing her throat and softly stroking her hair. Eventually, he came to a complete halt and said with a guilty laugh: "Sorry, Tauriel, I think I drank too much of that wine." Then he got up, changed into his nightshirt and went to sleep as usual.

Tauriel could have wept. So near and yet so far. Tomorrow she was due up at the outpost for an entire week and perhaps absence would make the heart grow fonder. The children were going on a visit to the dwarven settlement and Thorin would be all on his own. Perhaps he would be more appreciative of her company once she eventually returned. But, there was a cold feeling about her heart.

The next morning they all waved her off – and it was pouring with rain still. Thorin was escorting the children to Dis' home later that day and then he would have a whole week without her. And he couldn't help but feel an absolute sense of profound relief.

.o00o.

Pt III

Thorin returned from leaving his family at the dwarven settlement that evening, shut the door behind himself and, sitting down at the dining table, placed his head in his hands. He wasn't quite sure how much longer he could cope with this and he felt like weeping. Every night he spent in bed with Tauriel, he kept hoping that things would be better, but every night it was the same.

For months, he hadn't realised that there was a problem because Tauriel went to sleep every night in his arms and he would gently kiss her in the knowledge that, one day, she would wake up and no longer feel exhausted. He had not felt hard done by because having Poppy had been something they had both wanted and they were prepared to make the typical sacrifices that all parents made.

And then, one night, he had got into bed with Tauriel and, there she was, looking seductively up at him and her nightgown was on the floor. He had laughed gleefully, drawn her to him and buried his face in her neck. But, just as they were kissing passionately and he was building up a head of steam, suddenly he had experienced a flashback to that moment three months earlier when, in response to the drugs that Riel had been feeding him, he had made love to her in a brutal and totally unexpected way. She had never complained, never blamed him and had talked to him gently about it so that he thought he had accepted what had happened to him. But, now, with Tauriel in his arms once more, images of that horrible time flashed searingly before his eyes and all desire drained from him. He felt ashamed and embarrassed that he couldn't complete the act and so he had claimed he was tired and had turned away from her.

The images came back night after night to haunt him and, night after night, he pretended to go to sleep. When it was obvious that nothing was going to change, he began to take a sedative, obtained from the Grey Havens, before he came to bed and then he knew that he really would go to sleep quickly without having to fake things.

Sometimes, when he was asleep, he would dream about her and he would gradually surface to find himself holding her tightly in his arms and his body aching with his need for her. But, as Tauriel also began to wake up and her hands started to caress him, it was back to square one again.

He wondered what was going through Tauriel's head and just hoped that she would think that the strain of the three children and all the work that was on his plate at the moment was making him exhausted in the same way that she had been exhausted too. But, she'd certainly been trying with him. That picnic down by the river had been an absolute torment. He had kept his eyes turned away from her and had studied his food. Briefly, he had wondered if the beautiful outdoor setting had changed things but her hand on his thigh had stopped the breath in his throat – and had afforded him another flashback. He had covered her with a towel and both the distressing images and his desire had receded.

And then she had danced for him, the sedative had been forgotten and his need for her rose like a fire through him. He had swept her off in his arms to their bed and he had wanted her so much...but, at the critical moment, the flashback happened again... and... and... Thorin didn't want to think about it because it hurt too much. And that was why he was so relieved that she was off to the outpost for a whole seven days and he didn't have to torment himself for a week. He had thought about telling her when she came back but he couldn't bear to. If he could no longer express his love for her in a physical way, then surely she would stop loving him?

Even so, he couldn't stop himself from thinking about her and yearning for her and so he got himself a cup of wine and then another one and another until he passed out on the table.

Tauriel, meanwhile, had made her rain-sodden way up to the outpost. She couldn't stop thinking about Thorin and her heart was broken. He didn't love her any more, she was certain, but when she got back home next week she would have one last try – she would talk to him in an effort to find out what was going on. Having made this decision, she tried to put things to the back of her mind.

She was pleased to reach the outpost because she felt surrounded by affection there and it was balm to her wounded soul. Her men saluted her smartly but once she told them to be at ease, they relaxed into their normal, friendly manner and their warmth and love for her shone in their faces. They fussed around her making her feel wanted and needed. They had made a lovely meal for her and wanted to know all about Thorin, Arion, Rose and Poppy. Warg was also a popular topic of conversation and it was as if they embraced her whole family.

Early the next morning, the night patrol returned absolutely wet to the skin even though they had been wearing their elven cloaks. The rain continued to be torrential and they all stared out at it gloomily because it just wasn't the sort of weather that encouraged anyone to go outside and practise their skills. Tauriel talked to the night patrol about the conditions higher up in the hills.

"The moorland above us has been soaking up water like a sponge," said Rostrel, "and it's really squelchy to walk on. I don't see how the ground can hold much more."

Tauriel looked worried because she had seen this set of circumstances once before: the ground gets waterlogged; there is another huge downpour; the water has nowhere to go except into the river; the river swells and bursts its banks – and then there are floods which are accompanied – most frighteningly of all – by a great surge so powerful that it carries all before it!

"What state's the river in?" she asked Lostwithiel. It was the same river that ran past the outpost and then on down to the forge.

"A bit turbulent when I looked last," the elf lord replied.

"I think I'd better have a look too," she said and they went together to check out the stream.

As soon as she saw the river, Tauriel was worried. It was very high and plunged and crashed and foamed, just about contained within its bounds. The rain was pelting down and suddenly she had a very bad feeling about the forge. "I'm sorry to leave as soon as I've got here, Lostwithiel, but I think I'd better go and warn Thorin," she said.

The elf lord nodded in agreement. "I think you'd better go straight away," he replied.

And so, Tauriel packed a bag and saddled her horse and, as quickly as possible, hastened back down the hillside.

.o00o.

Pt IV

As she approached the forge, Tauriel wasn't surprised to find her horse splashing ankle deep in water. The river had obviously broken its banks and, the nearer she got to home, the higher it became. By the time she reached the yard, the flood water was up to the horse's knees. She had to get them both out of here, she thought, and hoped that Thorin had already left. But, his horse was still in the stable, kicking at the door and looking quite agitated, and the shutters to the house were closed.

She struggled through the water to the door and hammered on it, calling Thorin's name, but there was no answer. Surely he wasn't still asleep? The water rose steadily and she had to make a decision. In the end, she undid her pack from the horse and threw it up onto the roof of the forge. Then, she let Thorin's horse out of the stable and, slapping its rump and that of her own, chased them from the yard in the direction of higher ground. Then she went back to her banging and shouting.

Yes, Thorin was still in a drunken sleep, his head resting on the dining table. The close-fitting, sturdy door had kept out much of the water but it had begun to ripple around his ankles and that, together with the noise that Tauriel was making, finally roused him from his bad dreams. He staggered across the room in a confused state and opened the door, letting in a chest-high wall of water. Thorin was knocked off his feet and Tauriel was swept into the room. She managed to find her balance first and helped the dwarf up out of the water.

"The river's flooded!" she yelled. "I let the horses go. We've got to get up on the roof!"

Hand in hand, half swimming, they made their way outside. The water was now up to their chins and the low roof-line of the forge was almost within reach. Thorin lifted her up and she scrambled to temporary safety. She reached down to help him up too, but he needed little assistance because the flood had now reached the gutter.

"We'll have to get up on the main roof!" Thorin gasped as she grabbed her belongings.

Fortunately, the slope of the forge roof was very steep and from the ridge, with a boost from Thorin, Tauriel managed to reach the roof of the house. She withdrew an elven rope from her pack and, tying it around the chimneystack, threw it down to Thorin and he scrambled up too.

Tauriel left the rope in position. "We'll sit astride the ridge, Thorin," she said, "with our backs to the stack and we'll tie ourselves on. I don't know how much worse this will get."

Thorin sat down first with his back to the chimney; then Tauriel sat in front of him, her back leaning against his chest, and knotted the rope. From their lofty position, they had a good view of the land all around them. It was as if they were an island marooned in a lake of water. The tops of trees emerged above the surface and they could see over them to what had once been the river, defined now only by the willows that lined the banks.

They both stared around themselves, aghast. Suddenly, Tauriel pointed upriver and yelled: "Hold on! Here it comes!" Thorin looked in the direction of her finger and his eyes widened to see a great wall of water sweeping down the river from the hills. The bore pushed the surrounding floodwater into a tidal wave and, as it reached the house, the wave passed over them and the roof. If it hadn't been for the rope, they would have been swept away.

They emerged, spluttering, but still in one piece. The water was now up to the gutter of the main house. But, it had stopped raining, the clouds were parting and a shaft of sunlight was beginning to break through. They both heaved a sigh of relief.

Tauriel fumbled with the rope. "Don't undo it yet," Thorin said. "It's still not safe." And he pulled her firmly back against his chest. She had held on tightly to her pack as the wave had passed over them and now she drew out a dry elven cloak which she lay over both of them and also took out some lembas and a flask of wine.

"I think we could do with this," she said, as she divided the way bread between them and offered him a swig from the bottle.

"Do you remember?" he whispered in her ear.

Yes, she remembered that night at the forge when they had shared lembas and cram and wine. It was the moment of their first meeting. She reached up behind her and ran her hand down a plait that brushed against her cheek. "I think I loved you even then," she replied.

"You were the most beautiful creature I had ever seen," he said. "But I could have wrung your neck." And they laughed softly together as they remembered the misunderstandings of that time. Thorin pulled Tauriel even more tightly against his body and nuzzled her neck. She had come to save him and she might have died. A shudder of horror ran through him at the thought of losing her.

"Are you cold?" asked Tauriel as she felt him shiver.

"No," he said. "I was just suddenly afraid of what I might have lost." And he kissed her neck.

"I was frightened too," she said softly and she turned her head and kissed him tenderly on the lips.

Thorin grinned wryly to himself. If only they were on the riverbank in the sunshine like the other day at this precise moment instead of being perched astride the ridge of a roof. But, holding his wife in his arms like this, in a tight embrace, he felt happier than he had been for a long time.

They sat there in the sun for several hours, cuddling into each other and whispering together. It was uncomfortable up there on the roof, but they were spending such a close and loving time in each other's company that they hardly noticed.

"Do you remember our first time in Lake Town?" asked Tauriel.

Thorin rolled his eyes up. "I was so clumsy," he said. "I really didn't know what I was doing."

"Well, that made two of us," she laughed.

And then she stroked his hand and, lifting it to her lips, opened his fingers and planted a kiss upon his palm.

"I didn't find you clumsy," she said shyly. "I thought you were tender and gentle. You made me feel loved and desired and cherished. It was the most wonderful experience and I didn't want that night to end."

Thorin suddenly felt shy too. It wasn't often that he spoke about his deepest feelings for his wife. "My love for you that night was like a pain," he whispered. "The aching and the need hurt deep down inside me because I knew I had to leave you. And you were so beautiful." He bent and brushed her neck with the lightest of kisses.

"How lucky we are," she sighed. And she stretched her head back against his shoulder and his lips pressed against her throat.

They sat quietly together for some time, watching the sunlight glitter on the water. But then Tauriel asked the question she had been wanting to ask: "Did Elspeth mean anything to you?"

Thorin laughed uproariously. "She meant a very embarrassing moment in a rich trader's house, if you really want to know," he said. And he told her how Elspeth had pinned him to the wall and he had managed to escape her clutches by the skin of his teeth. In the end, as she pictured it, Tauriel laughed too.

"I have another question," Tauriel said quietly.

"Which is?" murmured Thorin, kissing her hair and the enchanting tip of her ear.

"I want to know," said Tauriel, "why we haven't made love in such a long time?"

Thorin suddenly stilled and fell silent but Tauriel pressed on.

"This is really important, Thorin. Why do you turn away from me in bed and go to sleep? I thought we agreed some time ago on the importance of talking to each other." Thorin said nothing but Tauriel didn't press him. She sensed that he was gearing himself up to reveal the truth. Finally, he murmured quietly in her ear.

"I love you so much, Tauriel. And that was a dreadful thing I did to you under the influence of Riel's drugs. Really dreadful. I don't seem to be able to get past it. And every time I try to make love to you, I get a flashback. It's horrible. And...and...I lose all my desire." He sighed and buried his face in her neck in shame. "And what use is a lover who can't make love?"

Tauriel reached up and stroked his face. "You stupid, stupid dwarf," she said. "This is something we should be working on together. But how can we do that if you won't talk to me?" She turned her face again and kissed him fiercely.

She wriggled backwards a few more inches along the roof ridge, pressing herself even more firmly against him. "I wish we were in bed together," she whispered.

"Just what I've been thinking," he murmured. He nibbled her ear and told her all the naughty things he would like to do to her, once they were in bed again. Tauriel giggled and stroked his thigh. Then she twisted in his arms and, seizing him by one of his plaits, she pulled his lips down upon her own. Under the elven cloak, Thorin reached for her.

"Yoo-hoo!" came Lostwithiel's voice. "Are you two OK up there?"

They broke away from each other, startled. And, there were Lostwithiel and Lithin in a rowing boat.

"It's the rescue party," the elf lord laughed.

"And what if we don't want to be rescued at this precise moment?" Thorin growled.

"Well," we can always come back in half an hour," Lithin grinned.

But Tauriel untied them both from the stack and they edged down the roof and into the boat. The elves rowed them to higher ground where a group of horses were waiting, including their own. "They galloped up to the outpost," said Lithin, "so we knew something was wrong."

And then they rode back to the farmhouse.

"The water level is beginning to drop already," said Lostwithiel. "Your house will be a mess but some of us elves will come and help clear it up and, once you get the dwarves working on it, I'm sure it will be quickly sorted."

"And at least the children weren't there," said Lithin.

And they all agreed that this was the silver lining to that particular cloud.

They were thoroughly pampered by the elven troop and, relaxed and happy, they finally fell into Tauriel's narrow bed together. Tauriel took Thorin's face in her hands. "I love you, Thorin," she said. "And now I want you to make love to me."

They took things very, very slowly. "And I'm enjoying every moment," she reassured him. It was warm and snugly sensuous and Thorin experienced no flashbacks. When it was finally and spectacularly all over, he held her tenderly in his arms. "I knew there had to be some advantage to this narrow bed," he murmured, as he pressed tightly up against her. "Perhaps our new bed at the forge should be made half the size of our current one."

"Ah," she giggled, "now that seems like a plan."

.o00o.


	15. Chapter 15 Thorin and the Rider

In this story, Poppy is three and spoiled and it's Tauriel whom family life has begun to affect. Will she be swept away by a fantasy figure or will the love of a good man/dwarf help her to keep her feet firmly planted on the ground? Well, you always know the ending, don't you, ladies, LOL? One of these days I shall shock you!

.o00o.

THORIN AND THE RIDER

PT I

Tauriel was trying to knead some dough. It was a hard job and she was feeling very tired.

Into the room stomped three year old Poppy looking very pretty in one of the many frilly dresses her parents had bought for her and clutching a white ribbon in her hand.

"Mum-meee!" she said in a demanding little voice. "I need a pink ribbon to match this dress and I can't find one." And she stood there glaring as if this lack was all Tauriel's fault.

"Won't a white one do, sweetheart?" asked Tauriel in a reasonable voice, up to her elbows in flour.

"No," said Poppy in indignant tones. "I'm a little pwincess and pwincesses don't wear white, only pink."

Tauriel sighed, washed and dried her hands and then rifled through various drawers until she came up with a pink silk ribbon. Without saying "thank you", Poppy swept away with it. Tauriel floured her hands again but, only a couple of minutes later, Arion stormed into the room.

"Warg and Dog are fighting over food," he said in an accusing voice. "I told you to set it out in separate bowls - and you didn't! Now, what shall I do?"

Tauriel tried to maintain her reasonable voice. "Well, you know that Warg's bowl got broken yesterday." She was careful not to say: "You know how YOU broke Warg's bowl." And then she continued: "It's not a bad thing for them to fight a bit. It gives Dog a chance to establish his dominance – and you know how Warg always lets him win."

Arion snorted, helped himself to an elf-cake she had made earlier and also stomped out rather grumpily. Tauriel went back to her kneading.

Five minutes later, Rose came in sniffing and brushing a tear from her cheek. It was so unusual to see Rose crying that Tauriel wiped her hands and put an arm around her. "What's the matter, Rose?" she asked.

"I shall give that Thorin a thump one of these days," she snapped between sniffs. "'E's in such a bad mood and really yelled at me because he said I had done a bad job on a necklace I've been helping him with. Well, I shall just stop 'elping and then see 'ow 'e likes it! You should call 'im to order a bit more often, Tauriel!" And she also snatched an elf-cake and stormed off to her room.

Is the wind blowing from the east, Tauriel wondered? And she began to feel at the end of her tether. But, back she went to her kneading.

Finally, hard upon Rose's heels, Thorin banged in from the forge. He ripped off his leather apron and his filthy top and threw them on the floor in a temper. "I don't believe it!" he fumed. "I've managed to ruin that sword I was welding and now I'll have to start it all over again from scratch." He grabbed an elf-cake and shoved it in his mouth. "I must say," he added, "that if you had found the time to come out and help me with the bellows, it might not have happened."

"What about Rose?" said Tauriel calmly.

"Oh, she was too busy messing up that commission of mine to do something as mundane as working the bellows, but you're only cooking. I asked you to find a moment but you never came so I went ahead and ruined it."

Tauriel bit her tongue and took her annoyance out on the dough, giving it a jolly good punch.

When she didn't offer any appropriate sympathy, Thorin came up behind her and wrapped her in his arms, nuzzling her neck. His hands ran rather intimately across the front of her apron and he breathed hotly against her throat. "Give me a cuddle, Tauriel," he said in his wheedling voice. "I feel really fed up."

Tauriel glanced down at her clean, white apron and there were sooty hand marks on it. She groaned and whisked it off before any of the children saw where the handprints were and put it in the basket ready to wash – again. Another unnecessary job. Thorin was like a big fourth baby today and she had had enough of the lot of them. She snatched up a couple of her own cakes and snapped: "Sort out your own problems, Thorin. I'm going for a bit of a break!" And she abandoned her dough on the table.

Thorin stood blinking. Well, he would never understand women. All he had wanted was a bit of a cuddle. And he wondered what had put his wife into such a bad temper. Then he ate another couple of cakes and felt better.

Tauriel nibbled at her own cakes down by the river. Her life seemed one long drudgery at the moment with everyone moaning at her and nobody helping. If only something nice would happen – something interesting – something exciting. And she didn't mean something exciting like the flood: that had just caused a whole string of difficulties. A lot of money had been spent on replacing damaged stuff and paying the dwarven masons and carpenters to put right everything that was wrong with the house after the water had subsided. Her men from the outpost had been marvellous, but it had all taken weeks and they had shuffled around between Dis' home, the Mountain Eagle Inn and a rented house in the Grey Havens while it was being done. No, she didn't want any more excitement like that, thank you very much!

The one good thing that had happened because of the flood was that she had discovered why Thorin was suddenly no longer making love to her and their problems had been resolved. But, ever since, he had seemed to be making up for lost time. And, for the first moment in her life, she had begun to see this as a disadvantage because she was so bored and lethargic.

Take last night. She had lost interest half way through, her mind distracted by a million household tasks. Thorin hadn't noticed until it was all over and apologised. "Sorry, Tauriel," he said. "I'll wake you up a bit later and we'll have another go."

Please, not another go, Tauriel found herself thinking. His enthusiasm seemed unending but hers was beginning to fizzle out. Would they never regain that wonderful balance of desire that they had experienced for so many years?

She finished her cakes and gazed moodily into the water. What was wrong with her? She had so much. And she was married to the most wonderful, the most handsome creature on Middle-earth. She had her heart's desire but that, sadly, did not seem good enough for her.

If only something nice, something exciting would happen, she repeated to herself as she dragged her way back to the house. Be careful what you wish for. As she got back to the yard, it was as if a children's picture book was opened and out from its pages came galloping a romantic figure of story and legend.

.o00o.

Pt II

As Tauriel stood in the shadow of the trees, the most beautiful, the most magnificent horse she had ever seen cantered into the yard. And, on its back was riding the most magnificent man. He was very tall and very good-looking. He was bearded and his long blond hair flowed down upon his shoulders from under an amazing helmet. It shone like gold in the sun and a horse's tail was attached to the top and swung down behind him giving him an equine look as if he was some mythical creature, half man, half horse. Tauriel gaped.

At the sound of the horse, Thorin emerged from the house, wearing his grubby top and carrying Poppy on his hip. Rose was hanging on his arm and Arion peered out from the stable. They all stood with their mouths open. The rider brought his horse to a wonderfully controlled halt and gazed down arrogantly at Thorin from his saddle.

"I am looking for the great warrior, Thorin Oakenshield," he said.

Thorin gave him a lopsided grin. He could imagine the scene of scruffy domestic bliss he was presenting to this heroic specimen. "What do you want with him?" he asked, playing with the man and knowing what the response would be.

"I don't share my business with servants," he sneered, "particularly if they're dwarves."

"Oho," said Rose, noticing Thorin's amusement and playing along with the game. "So, no-one told you that Thorin Oakenshield is a dwarf?"

The rider blinked, caught on the back foot for a moment. Then he regrouped quickly. "I don't talk to little girls either," he said. "And I still need to talk to your master," he added, turning once more to Thorin.

"Well, I'm not quite sure, sir, that I can arrange that," Thorin replied, "seeing as I have no master."

"You're insolent, dwarf," snapped the stranger. "Give me your name!"

Poppy was goggling at the rider until this moment but, as she heard the rude way that the man addressed her father, she entered the exchange. "Don't you talk to my Daddy like that," she said haughtily, "or he'll punch you on the nose. And," she said, warming to her subject, "I'll tell my mummy about you and she's an elf and she'll fight you with her knives."

The rider looked at the little girl in her expensive frock and slowly the penny dropped. There was a long pause and then he said: "So, am I addressing the warrior, Thorin Oakenshield, then?"

Thorin grinned. "You're addressing Thorin the smith, one-time warrior and King under the Mountain." And he stroked the horse's neck. "What a fine piece of horse-flesh," he added. "Would I, by any chance, be addressing a Rider of Rohan, one of the Rohirrim?"

The man relaxed and grinned back. "My mother always says I jump too readily to the wrong conclusions."

"Funny you should say that," said Tauriel walking across the yard, "I'm always telling Thorin the same thing, so you two make a pair." And the man let out a shout of laughter and dismounted gracefully from his horse.

Tauriel introduced herself; Arion and Rose took the awesome horse to the stables and Thorin gestured Thurstan, the Rider, into his humble home.

And very small and humble it did indeed look once Thurstan had shouldered his way into the main room. He towered above everyone and his bulk seemed to fill the space so that it appeared inadequate. When he sat down, he overflowed the chair he sat on and Tauriel was afraid that he would damage her furniture. But, he took his helmet off and he fitted the room a lot better after that. The children and Dog stood in a long line gaping at him and Tauriel had to remind them not to be rude. But Thurstan laughed and said he was used to being stared at ever since crossing the borders out of the wide grassy plains of Rohan.

They sat around the dining table and he demolished the last of the elf-cakes in a few gulps. He was nothing like Beorn in size, thought Thorin, and yet he projected a larger than life image.

"So, why have you come?" asked Thorin at last.

Thurstan told them how the villages of Rohan were being subjected to more and more frequent orc attacks. The wild men were also being encouraged to come down from the hills by the orcs to attack his people too. "Gandalf passed through about a year ago and told us how he had set up an outpost in Ered Luin and how a warrior by the name of Thorin had suggested ways of arming the scattered farmhouses and settlements. Our king has sent me to study the details so that we can, perhaps, do the same. The Riders constantly patrol the plains but we cannot cover every area."

"You see," smiled Tauriel, "your fame has reached even the distant lands of Edoras, Thorin."

And distant those lands seemed to them for neither had ever visited the grasslands of the horse lords. Arion and Rose were keen to hear all about the Rider's home. "We've travelled as far as Mirkwood and Dale," Rose said proudly, "but we've never been that far south." One day she hoped to go there and visit the fabled white city of Minas Tirith which was even further away but there was plenty of time for that.

"Which way did you come?" asked Thorin. "Did you have to cross the Misty Mountains?"

"We've crossed the Misty Mountains," boasted Arion with a toss of his head.

"No," laughed Thurstan. "I thought I had chosen the easy route. I travelled through the Gap of Rohan and followed the River Isen to the sea. There I took ship to the Grey Havens. But," he said with a grimace, "I discovered too late that I was a poor sailor and I have endured weeks of misery. My horse, Buckler, was none too happy either. I can't tell you how relieved we were to set foot on solid ground once more."

"And was there any special reason," Tauriel asked, "as to why you were chosen for this mission?" She had heard about the boastful culture of the Riders and wanted, politely, to give Thurstan an opportunity to tell tall tales of his prowess and courage.

But, unexpectedly, he paused before saying that he had volunteered for the journey and Tauriel guessed that there had been some trouble at home that had persuaded him to travel to lands far beyond the reach – or the interest - of most of the Rohirrim.

Thorin spent the rest of the evening discussing the problems that they had faced from invading orcs. "It's not too serious," he said, "but I reckon that's because they know the area is well-guarded. I think it would be a lot worse if we didn't have the outpost and if the farmhouses weren't well fortified. We get the occasional flurry from small groups of about thirty. I reckon they're testing our strength and, if they found that we had let our guard drop, I think they would attack in greater numbers. The outpost is a big deterrent, of course," he continued. "But I think you need to ask my wife about that – she's in charge. Gandalf chose her, you know," he finished proudly, "because she was Thranduil's captain of the guard in Mirkwood."

"And was she a good one?" the Rider asked smilingly. He didn't doubt a woman's prowess because the Rohirrim had a handful of shield maidens of their own but, to have a woman in charge of an outfit, well, that was something else.

"Well, she was good enough to capture me – twice – and hold me prisoner," Thorin said, half with embarrassment and half with pride.

"Yeah, it's a good story," grinned Rose. "You'll 'ave to get the details out of 'im when 'e's drunk." And they all laughed.

"I'm going up to the outpost for a week tomorrow," offered Tauriel. "Would you like to come with me and see how we operate?"

Thurstan was delighted. Not only would he get to see in close-up how Ered Luin was defended, but he would get to spend more time in the company of the beautiful captain of the guard. The Riders were an insular people; he had met very few elves before and he had to admit that he was stunned by this one.

.o00o.

Pt III

Thorin waved them off the next day. He stood on the doorstep holding a daughter by each hand and Thurstan couldn't help but surreptitiously shake his head. All he could see was a great warrior reduced to the role of baby-sitter. Well, things like that certainly didn't happen in Rohan. The small number who chose to be shield maidens were very skilled but, once they were married, then they knew their place – at home, with the children. He could scarcely believe that Thorin was willing to stay at the forge, looking after the children, whilst Tauriel set out on her manly duties at the outpost.

"Does Thorin mind looking after the children while you're on duty?" he asked curiously.

"No," replied Tauriel. "He likes their company. Then I look after them when he does weapons' training with the men."

But, that's how it should be, he felt like saying. The woman should be looking after them while the man gets on with his work. It bothered him, this sharing of tasks, but it made Tauriel seem strong and different in a rather attractive way.

Tauriel gave Thurstan a side-long glance. My, he looked wonderful astride that horse. He seemed to control it with the slightest movement of his knees and he and his beast were so large that she was beginning to get a crick in her neck looking up at him. She felt faintly overwhelmed by his presence. Was this the exciting experience she had wished for? Perhaps it was, she grinned to herself. Thurstan was certainly exciting enough to make her feel rather short of breath when she was around him.

Thurstan was also looking at Tauriel out of the corner of his eye, wondering if all elves were as beautiful as she was. The shield maidens of Rohan were tall and sinewy and strapping with long, blond hair and a masculine stride. Tauriel was also tall but slender and lithe, the sort of woman who would bend rather than break if you took her in your arms. And he spent a few moments imagining the experience. A Rohan girl, despite her fierce demeanour, always melted in a man's arms once he laid hold of her. She knew what it was to be a woman and how to acknowledge the dominance of men. Even at times of war, although they were often very skilled, the female fighters of Rohan were usually asked to protect the women and children at home whilst the men went off to do battle: they seldom experienced real, hand to hand fighting. That was men's work. There were no women amongst the Riders, patrolling the plains. And their ultimate role was that of housewife and mother. Thurstan was finding it very difficult getting his head around the idea of Tauriel being in charge of a load of men. But, they weren't men, Thurstan reminded himself, but elves and perhaps elves were different. He thought of the way that Tauriel and Thorin ran their household and, remembering the emasculated dwarf, wondered if elves were the same. He grinned to himself. Perhaps the beautiful Tauriel was in need of a real man.

He dug around a bit further. "Are any of your troop women?" he asked.

"Not at the moment," she said, "but female volunteers would be more than welcome. Are any of the Riders women?"

"No," he answered. He almost said, "No, certainly not," but he bit back the remark just in time.

But she persisted. "Any reason?"

He tossed back his blond braids arrogantly. "Men and women all have their place. One or two young women like to train as shield maidens, but, at the end of the day, they're just not powerful enough to fight with men and we seldom allow them on the field of battle. It keeps them amused and out of mischief whilst they're young," and he smiled in a condescending way. "But, once they're married, their chief purpose is to produce children – and please their husbands."

Tauriel raised an eyebrow. "Ah," she said, "I shall have to tell Thorin that. He'll wonder if he's missing out on something."

Not noticing the sarcastic note in her voice, Thurstan took this opening to eagerly instruct Tauriel in the art of wifely duties. "Women are the gentler sex. They like to be led and to be told what to do. And if they put a lot of effort into pleasing their husbands then they can have just about everything they want out of life." He smiled winningly at her. "We are putty in your hands, you know. There are ways and ways of being in control."

Tauriel nearly burst out laughing. Well, Thorin was usually putty in her hands, she had to admit. But, on the other hand, she was often putty in his – although not quite so often just lately. She felt sorry for all the poor ladies of Rohan with their lack of choices in life, even if the compensation was being bedded by fine-looking men like Thurstan. And she took some time out to admire him.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

"Well," she said, "I was wondering what it might be like to let Thorin take complete control and for me to give up my life at the outpost and devote myself to his every whim."

Feeling that he had begun to reel her in to his way of thinking, he pressed on enthusiastically. "Just think," he said, "how much better your life could be if you were to give up your job and stay at home. Your husband and children would no longer have to worry about your safety and you could be there for them 24 hours a day. Your husband would show his appreciation in all sorts of ways." And he looked at her slyly through golden lashes. "You would no longer be so tired trying to be all things to all men, so to speak. And you are tired, aren't you?" he guessed. "My father always used to say that the man was the head of the household but the woman was its heart. And, once you can get your thoughts around that and live your life by that rule, then everyone will be happier."

Tauriel was beginning to find him tiresome. "But, what if that's not what I want?" she asked.

"Well, I'm sorry if it's not what you want," he said. "But it's a man's world and a woman gets on in life by succumbing to his wishes."

Tauriel changed tack a little. "So, you don't let women fight in battle because they're not as strong as men? Well, I have fought in battles and I have lived to tell the tale. We have skills that compensate for our lack of strength like agility and speed."

Thurstan refused to be stumped. "But you had men fighting alongside you," he said. "I can imagine that they were protecting you even if you weren't aware of it."

Tauriel felt like snorting with indignation but she smiled sweetly instead. There was time and enough for him to find out about her fighting skills. And when Thurstan saw her submissive smile he felt confident that he had won that particular argument.

But, as you say, thought Tauriel, women have ways and ways. Time to be the concerned woman.

Putting on a gentle, feminine smile, she said: "I got the feeling that you volunteered to come on this mission to escape trouble at home. Women's intuition, you know."

Thurstan smiled in triumph. "There," he said, "you've just proved what I've been saying. A woman's instincts have a place in the grand scheme of things. You're so much better at rooting out a man's problems – and then offering comfort."

"Ah, so you need comfort?" she asked coyly.

"Perhaps I do," he grinned cheekily. "Are you offering?"

"You'll have to tell me your problem first," she said sweetly.

"Well, there's this woman," he started.

"There usually is," Tauriel laughed.

"And I wanted to marry her and I thought she wanted to marry me," he continued. "But then I caught her kissing someone else. She said it meant nothing but we had a big row about it. Then the king asked for a volunteer. I decided it would serve her right if I disappeared for a few months – treat them mean, keep them keen, you know – and so I stepped forward."

"But you know what they say," said Tauriel. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder – of someone else. Aren't you worried that, while you're away, she'll find another lover?"

Thurstan tossed his head with a cocky self-assurance. "No, I know when a woman wants me." And he looked suggestively at Tauriel. "She'll wait. And, when I do return, she'll be at my feet."

Tauriel felt like smacking him and saying "Naughty boy!" As she looked at him, she no longer saw a mature, adult man and warrior but a spoiled teenager, playing a game with love and determined to get his manipulative way.

But, by now, they had arrived at the outpost. Her men came running out and greeted her with deference and affection. Seeing their respect made Thurstan feel uneasy. It seemed the wrong way round, somehow. The elves were all extraordinarily handsome fellows but there was something willowy – almost feminine about them – and this came as no surprise.

They fussed around the two of them like women and cooked a meal that was even better than that produced by most women too. But Thurstan felt a bit confused when he watched the elves watching Tauriel, particularly when he studied her second in command, Lostwithiel. The chap was in love with her – even in lust with her – and he noted the way that his eyes followed her sadly around the room. But, as far as he was concerned, this was quite normal male/female behaviour. And he wondered if the elf had taken things further. An affair would be quite easy to manage, he thought. What with Tauriel up at the outpost and Thorin down at the forge. An elf – or a man - would be a fool not to have a go under the circumstances.

Should he have a go, he wondered? Nothing ventured, nothing gained. And he would soon be out of here and travelling back to the rolling grasslands of Rohan.

.o00o.

Pt IV

Thorin was feeling anxious. He had sent a message up to Dis with a group of travellers and he hoped she could get to the forge either this evening or tomorrow morning. Then, once the children were in her care, he would set out for the farmhouse. Tauriel usually only stayed overnight but, before the arrival of the Rider, she had promised to stay on for a week. This had been no problem although he always missed her when she was gone. But, now that the Rider had come and would be up there with his wife, Thorin began to feel uneasy. He seemed a nice enough chap – and yet ... Thorin couldn't quite put his finger on why Thurstan bothered him, but he did. And he wasn't going to sit at home and wait for something to happen.

When Dis hadn't arrived by the time it was dark, he assumed she wouldn't be there until the next morning. He put Poppy to bed and then Arion a bit later and, after that, Rose helped him to tidy up. They were just sitting down for a chat when they were surprised to hear a horse come into the yard.

"Surely not Dis at this hour?" said Thorin in surprise. And Rose ran to the door. Outside, in the dark, she could just about make out a big and beautiful horse, a bit like Thurstan's. Its rider dismounted and strode into the light. They were surprised to see, not another of the Rohirrim, but a tall and striking woman.

"I'm looking for Thorin Oakenshield and Thurstan of Rohan," she said curtly. "Are either of them here?"

Thorin bowed her into his home and said: "I am Thorin Oakenshield and Thurstan was here only this morning. He has gone up to examine our outpost in the Blue Mountains with my wife and they should be back within the week."

"With your wife?" she said, and her eyes flashed.

"Yes," Thorin replied. "The elf, Tauriel. One-time captain of the guard at Thranduil's palace and now captain of the Ered Luin outpost."

"An elf?" she asked.

"What's botherin' 'er?" thought Rose.

"If you could possibly give me directions to the outpost, then I'll be off," the woman said abruptly.

But Thorin gestured her to be seated at the table. "You'll never find it in the dark," he said. "You're welcome to stop here for the night. I hope to go up there myself tomorrow."

And so, rather reluctantly, she sat down.

"I am Aelfrida of Rohan," she said. "And I have followed Thurstan from the Golden Hall of Edoras."

She was a handsome woman, large and strong with chiselled features. Her blond hair hung in plaits and braids and, although she wore no helmet, she was dressed in breeches and chain mail. Her stride was long and she carried herself with the confidence and arrogance of a man. When Rose stabled her horse, she found a shield and sword strapped to its side which she untied and brought into the house. "Fine workmanship," she said, as she laid the weapons on the table where their guest was eating. Aelfrida raised an eyebrow as if to say: And what would a 13 year old girl know about fine workmanship?

And so Rose volunteered the information before it was asked of her: "Thorin is a smith and I'm being trained as his apprentice."

"A female smith?" the woman asked in surprise.

"Why not?" said Rose.

"Er...why not, indeed," responded Aelfrida as if the thought suddenly found favour with her.

"And you're a female warrior," smiled Thorin.

"And why not?" she smiled back. "Well, at least until I get married."

"And what then?" asked Rose.

"Why, then I shall stay at home and look after my husband and the children."

"And never fight again?" Rose looked shocked.

"Of course not," came the response. "It wouldn't be appropriate or seemly. My first duty would then be to my husband. I would serve his every need."

Thorin spluttered into his drink. "Are there any more at home like you?" he guffawed. "I think I may have married the wrong woman."

Rose dug him in the ribs indignantly. "Now, stop it, Thorin, or I'll tell Tauriel," she said. And Thorin wiped the tears from his eyes and tried to keep a straight face as he thought of Tauriel serving his every need.

"Sorry," said a puzzled Aelfrida. "Have I said something wrong?"

"No, of course not," said Thorin, calming down. "And is there a lucky man whom you hope to marry?"

"It's Thurstan, of course," she said, and her face softened.

"But, what are you doin', chasin' after 'im like this?" asked Rose curiously.

"Well," said Aelfrida rather hesitantly, "I had wanted to marry him for a long time. I thought he was about to ask for my hand but week after week went by and he said nothing. So, finally, I decided to give him a bit of a push." She looked guiltily down into her lap.

"You tried to make him jealous," laughed Rose.

Aelfrida was startled. "How did you know?" she asked.

"Oh," said Rose modestly, "I'm just good at this sort of thing. So, let me guess: you set things up so that he would catch you kissing someone else."

Aelfrida was taken aback. "You're amazing," she said.

"But the whole thing back-fired," continued Rose. "You had a terrible row and he stormed off here to Ered Luin."

"Right," laughed Aelfrida. "And I was so afraid that I would lose him that I've followed after him."

"Yes, she is amazing, isn't she?" said Thorin, looking at Rose with a note of wonder in his voice. "I don't know where she gets it from."

"Well, not from 'im," giggled Rose to Aelfrida. "I'm adopted, you see."

Aelfrida had been wondering how a human child came to be the daughter of a dwarf and an elf. So that was at least one thing she could stop puzzling about. Now, all she had to worry about was whether or not Thurstan would run off with some other woman before she could get him back in her arms.

The next morning, Dis arrived bright and early and Thorin set off with Aelfrida to the outpost.

At the farmhouse, everyone had finished their breakfast. Thurstan had studied the whole set-up very closely and had held long conversations with the elves the previous evening. Now part of the troop went off on patrol, others set about a few household duties (Thurstan cast his eyes up – where on earth were the female servants?) and a couple went outside to practise various skills.

"Would you like to practise with me?" asked Tauriel. She had been waiting for this opportunity. Thurstan hesitated for a fraction of a second. In Rohan, men did not practise with women. On the other hand, this would give him a chance to be alone with Tauriel.

She took him out to the butts first and Thurstan was more than a little annoyed when he was well and truly out-classed by Tauriel. "What about a bit of hand to hand fighting now?" suggested Tauriel. "Your sword against my knives?"

Ah, thought Thurstan. Now that's more like it. And they went to a quiet glade nearby and drew out their weapons. The Rider grinned, confident of his success but the smile was soon wiped off his face. She moved so quickly and her knives whirled in such a blur that, time and again, she won the point. If this had been a real fight, he thought, he would be dead by now – several times over. He felt angry but he also felt strangely excited. It was such a novel experience to be dominated by a woman that he wasn't quite sure if he liked it or not.

But, at last he got his chance. With furious and powerful strokes, he managed to drive her back towards a tree. Tauriel was just about to slip to one side when she stumbled on a rock, fell back against the trunk and Thurstan, immediately seizing his moment, trapped her with his body and pressed his blade against her throat.

"Got you!" he crowed triumphantly. "You're dead!"

Tauriel couldn't help but be amused at his childish pleasure and she grinned back. "Do you submit?" he asked in a soft and throaty voice. His handsome face was only inches away and, suddenly, he bent forward and kissed her. She almost wasn't surprised because there had been a tension between them ever since they had first met. Thurstan dropped his sword and, clasping her to him, deepened the kiss.

Is this my adventure, thought Tauriel? The bit of excitement I was looking for? She had just decided that it wasn't and was about to push him away when a woman's yell reached her ears. Startled, they both turned in the direction of the voice. And there stood a furious Thorin and, by his side, a beautiful, mail-clad woman who, even now, was striding angrily towards them drawing her sword.

"Keep your hands off my man!" the woman shouted and Tauriel stepped away from Thurstan with an apologetic grimace. But the stranger thrust the point of her sword against Tauriel's throat and a bead of blood appeared on her white skin. Thurstan made no attempt to protect her but stood there grinning.

But Thorin was also marching forward with drawn sword: "And you can keep your hands off my wife!" he yelled at the Rider. Thurstan hastily bent to pick up his own sword and Tauriel knocked away Aelfrida's weapon with her knives. Suddenly, the quiet glade became a battle-ground. Dwarf and Rider, elf and sword maiden fought ferociously together.

The strangers from Rohan both thought they had the advantage. Aelfrida looked at Tauriel and saw only a willowy and slender elf; Thurstan looked at Thorin and saw only a baby-sitting dwarf. But Aelfrida had nowhere near Tauriel's skill and Thurstan was quickly finding out why Thorin was called a legendary warrior. Soon, both Rider and sword maiden found their blades had been sent flying from their hands. "I think," growled Thorin, "it's about time you two went home." And, seizing his wife by the elbow, he hustled her back to the farmhouse.

Thurstan and Aelfrida gazed at each other for a moment and then Aelfrida flung herself upon her beloved's neck and melted in his arms. Just as it should be, thought Thurstan smugly. But, later that night, en route to the Grey Havens, as they lay kissing on the grass by their camp fire, Thurstan suddenly cleared his throat and said: "Umm, you couldn't sort of, umm, boss me about a bit, could you? You know, like, get on top of me and tell me what to do and what not to do?" And he looked at Aelfrida hopefully.

The sword maiden blinked. What an odd request, she thought. "If you say so," she said politely. "You know I am yours to command."

"No, umm, I want you to do the commanding," Thurstan muttered.

"All right," she grinned. And found that telling Thurstan what to do came quite naturally to her when she put her mind to it.

.o00o.

When Thorin and Tauriel had got back to the farmhouse, there had been a bit of an argument over who had taken the initiative as far as the kiss with Thurstan was concerned and whether or not she had enjoyed it. Thorin looked quite hurt and Tauriel felt quite guilty. In the end, she managed to convince him that the kiss had been instigated by the Rider and that she had been about to push him away when Aelfrida had appeared on the scene.

"And you know," she said, "that I think you're the best kisser on Middle-earth."

Thorin looked pleased and didn't think to ask her how she knew.

That night, Thorin got into their narrow bed in Tauriel's office while she sat in her nightgown and finished off some paperwork at her desk.

"Come to bed, Tauriel," he wheedled.

She turned from the desk and smiled. "All right," she said. "But let's play the Thurstan/Aelfrida game first."

"And what sort of game is that?" he grinned, resting on his elbow.

"Well, it's where I pretend to be a woman from Rohan and you pretend to be one of the Rohirrim."

"Ah," he said. "The game where you serve my every need."

Her eyes twinkled. "That's right, my lord," she said. "Shall we begin?"

"Hmm," he said. "What do I need at the moment? I think I need you to take off that nightgown first." And Tauriel slowly pulled the gown over her head.

Thorin found that he was holding his breath. He would never get over how beautiful she was and, as she threw her clothing on the floor, he let his breath out in a burst and flung back the coverlet. She got in beside him and said seductively: "What next, my lord?"

If the lamp had been turned up a bit more brightly, Tauriel would have seen Thorin blush. "Well," he said, "I wonder if you could... if you wouldn't mind..." And he whispered in her ear. Tauriel grinned. "Anything, my lord," she said. And she knelt on the mattress, pushed him back on the pillow and said with a growl: "Now, just don't move!"

And, for the next fifteen minutes, Thorin tried very, very hard not to move although it proved rather difficult. He emerged gasping from this very interesting experience and Tauriel bent over him and gently and sensuously brushed her lips against his own.

"And what do you want next, my lord?" she said.

Thorin pulled her down into his arms and said: "Well, I think I want you to stop calling me 'my lord' and go back to 'Thorin' instead. And then I want you to tell me exactly what you would like me to do to you."

Tauriel giggled and whispered in his ear.

"Hmm,"said Thorin. "I think I'm going to enjoy that too."

And as they laughed and scuffled around under the coverlet, Tauriel felt an enormous sense of relief that the wonderful balance of desire that had once existed between them had finally made its return.

.o00o.


	16. Chapter 16 Thorin Goes to Rohan

The Oakenshield family go on another adventure, this time to Minas Tirith and Rohan. Will they have a hard time of it? I expect so. They always do. This follows closely behind Thorin and the Rider. Hope you enjoy it!

.o00o.

THORIN VISITS ROHAN

Pt I

"Well, Daddy," said four year old Poppy, "I do think you're really, really mean." She was sitting on Thorin's lap and glaring fiercely into his eyes,

"And why is that, poppet?" asked Thorin mildly. He was used to his small daughter's sudden accusations.

"Well, you've taken Arion and Rose and Dog on an exciting adventure and I just don't see why I can't go on one too." And she folded her arms and gave Thorin the full pout.

Her long-suffering father sighed. "We've discussed this all before," he said. "Life is so much more tricky since the time you were born. We've not only got Warg to think about – who would look after him whilst we were gone? But Dog is getting older too and I think he's lost the urge to go adventuring."

And I think I have too, Thorin added to himself.

Poppy put her arms about his neck and began to wheedle. "But you're so clever, Daddy. I'm sure that if you really tried you could work something out."

Ever since the two Rohirrim had passed briefly through their lives a year ago, Poppy had suddenly developed a fascination with the outside world. Thurstan and Aelfrida had blown into the forge with the wind of adventure and excitement at their backs and Poppy had refused to let the subject of a holiday in distant parts lie.

"I want to see the grassy plains of Rohan," she said, her eyes wide. "And I want to see the Golden Hall of Edoras and the white city of Minas Tirith."

"There's plenty of time for such things yet," her mother had said. "You're only four." But Arion had been only four when they had travelled all the way to the Lonely Mountain and back again and she never tired of asking her brother all about it. However, before the arrival of the Riders, it had seemed like a fairy-tale. After they had turned up on the doorstep – so large and golden and fine – suddenly these mythical places had taken on a reality and Poppy wanted to experience them.

Thorin and Tauriel lay in bed together, holding hands. "Do you think we ought to make the effort and go on another journey?" he asked his wife.

"Well," said Tauriel, "travel does broaden the mind and I think we discovered we had all learned a lot of things by the time we got home. But the burning question is," she continued, "what would we do with Warg if we did go?"

"Your men at the outpost are the only ones who could look after him," Thorin said.

"And Lithin is reasonably comfortable with him," added Tauriel. "Perhaps we should have a bit of a get together with all concerned parties and talk it through."

"Good idea!" said Thorin decisively, turning towards her and sliding his hand around her waist. "But the TRULY burning question is: why are we wasting good bed time discussing Warg when we could be doing much more satisfactory things?"

"Like what?" giggled Tauriel.

"Oh, I don't know," said Thorin. "How about sleeping?"

"Anything else come to mind?" pursued the elf.

And the dwarf nuzzled her neck and, in a husky voice, made various suggestions into her pretty, pointed ear.

"Oh, THAT!" exclaimed Tauriel. "But, are you sure you don't want to go to sleep instead?"

"Absolutely!" growled Thorin. And he grabbed the edge of the coverlet and pulled it over their heads.

.o00o.

A week later, the concerned parties were gathered together around the Oakenshield table: Thorin, Tauriel, Rose, Arion, Poppy, Lostwithiel and Lithin.

"Let's not worry about Warg for the moment," said Thorin, "but let's just talk about the basics."

Little Poppy sat there with her eyes alight, confident that her father would resolve all the issues.

"If we decide to go," Thorin continued, "then I think it's best to travel south by ship, like Thurstan and Aelfrida." Rose and Poppy looked excited but Arion pulled a face.

"I shall talk to Barnaby Waller in the Grey Havens," their father continued. "He's got a whole fleet of ships that trade as far as Minas Tirith and further. I can imagine that he will be willing to take on a few passengers. We shall leave our horses behind and rent them when we get there. But, that means that our horses here and Dog and Warg will need a home whilst we're gone for at least 6 weeks.

"Well," volunteered Lostwithiel, "I think the men would be willing to take on all the animals in theory, but Warg is very intimidating and we have no idea how he might behave once Arion isn't there to control him."

"That's true," said Lithin. "I rub along with Warg quite well but I've always got Arion with me. He might rip our throats out if we try to manage him on our own." And he looked quite apprehensive.

Poppy began to look annoyed and turned to Arion. "So, just because of your pet, none of us can go on holiday ever again! It's not fair."

Arion ignored her and looked up at his father. "Do we have to travel by ship? Why can't we go overland like we did when we went to the Lonely Mountain?"

"Because it's such a long way," Thorin replied. "We'd be gone for months on end and I really can't afford the time."

Arion studied his hands for a moment. "You see," he finally said, "the only ship I've ever been on is the Corsair ship when I was a little lad – when the pirates tried to take me. I still remember Rose jumping overboard with me and how frightened I felt. I've got bad memories."

"So, what are you saying, Arion?" asked Tauriel.

"I'm saying that, if we can't go overland, then I'd rather stay here. If the troop will have me, I could look after Warg, Dog and our horses up at the outpost."

Poppy perked up at that. "Yes, you stay behind, Arion. And then the rest of us can go and have a bit of fun."

"Well," snapped Arion, "the worst part of the journey would be having to share a cabin with my bratty sister for weeks on end!"

Poppy was about to open her mouth in a sharp retort when Lostwithiel held up his hand. "It would be a pleasure to have you all, Arion," he said. "But only if your parents think it's a good idea."

They all turned to look at Thorin and Tauriel.

"It is a good idea, isn't it?" wheedled Poppy.

Her parents gave each other a vaguely unhappy look.

"It's not perfect," said Thorin, at last, "but I think it's the best we can do." And the whole table cheered.

.o00o.

"You know," said Tauriel, as she and Thorin lay in bed that night, "Arion isn't the only one to be apprehensive about this trip. I've never been on a ship either. I was born here and the most I've done is a bit of boating on a river."

"Same here," said Thorin, "but a boat is a sort of ship."

"But a river isn't exactly the open sea. We don't even know if any of us will be prone to seasickness, like Thurstan," Tauriel retorted.

"Well, knowing my luck," grimaced Thorin, "I shall be the one to be seasick and you'll all be laughing at me. But, I know that you'll look after me, my love, and hold a bowl under my chin."

Tauriel remembered the very trying time when Thorin had broken out in spots and she wasn't sure that she could bear to have him sick again but thought that at least Rose would be there to help keep him in order.

"And our cabin bed is likely to be a tight fit," he added.

"That's a problem?" she grinned.

"One of the least of them, I should think," he laughed, and he drew her into his arms.

.o00o.

Pt II

Everything was arranged in a surprisingly short amount of time and, within a month, they were on their way. A number of elves came down from the outpost and collected Arion, the horses and his pets who all trotted off quite willingly. Tauriel and Thorin finished their packing and a hired wagon arrived to take them to the Grey Havens. Soon they were standing on the quay, looking up in awe at the Nancy Sue, Barnaby Waller's finest trading ship.

Rose and Poppy couldn't wait to get on board and the captain, Edward Bracegirdle, came to meet them as they climbed up the gangplank.

"We'll be putting to sea in an hour or so," he said, "and I hope you'll take dinner with me later this evening. In the meantime, Sam here will show you around."

"Sam here" was a fresh-faced young seaman with rosy cheeks and merry eyes. He helped them carry their luggage below decks and then showed them around their cabins, which didn't take long. They had been allotted two cabins next to each other and each had a double bed.

"We allus take on a few passengers and they like to have proper beds," said Sam. "Now," he added turning to Rose and Poppy, "you two young ladies won't mind sharing a bunk, will you?" They told him that this was just fine and then they all traipsed after him and squeezed into their parents' cabin.

"I'm afraid," said Sam politely to Tauriel, "that the Nancy Sue's beds are a lot narrower than those on land. It's alright for the young'uns, but will prove a bit tight for you two, your husband being so broad in the shoulder, and all."

Tauriel assured him that this would not bother them at all; and she could have smacked Thorin as he grinned wickedly at her from behind Sam's back, making it difficult for her to keep a straight face.

Then Sam showed them around the rest of the ship, from stem to stern, and they were all fascinated and delighted by everything they saw. He stood on deck with them as the gangplank was pulled up and the sails were unfurled. "It's a bit fresh today," he said, "and it might feel a bit rough to you landlubbers tonight as we pull further out to sea. But you're not to be frightened," he said kindly to the children. "It's good sailing weather and we shall make excellent time. But this is a merchant ship with a big hold to carry our goods, so she wallows a bit. Just don't worry about anything." And then he was off to help the rest of the crew, leaving them with the assurance that he would check on them regularly to make sure that there was nothing they needed.

That evening, they ate in the captain's cabin and a pretty good meal it was too. "Make the most of it," he laughed. "The food gets worse the longer we are at sea."

He told them it would take ten days to sail down to the mouth of the Isen and then three more days to make their way slowly up this wide river to the town of Osgiliath which served as a port to the city of Minas Tirith, just a few miles across the plain known as the Pelennor Fields.

"You can see the city from Osgiliath," he said. "In fact, you can see it rising up out of the plain some time before we get to the haven. And what a city it is," he sighed. "It really is a great marvel, made of white stone and rising circle upon circle until it reaches the Citadel at the very top."

Rose and Poppy wanted to know about the king but Captain Bracegirdle laughed. "There is no king," he said, "only the Steward, Ecthelion. For generations, the Stewards have kept the throne safe for the true king. They believe he will return one day."

And then they asked about Rohan. "We've got a couple of - er - friends there," said Thorin, "and we'd all like to see the Golden Hall of Edoras."

The children were very keen to visit the grassy plains of Rohan, but Thorin and Tauriel were a bit anxious about the reception that they might get from Thurstan and Aelfrida. In the end, they decided that since they had given hospitality to the Rohan couple, they would have to give them some form of hospitality in return.

"Ah, Edoras," said the captain. "Never been there. But they say that the Golden Hall is a marvel too. It was built hundreds of years ago – out of wood, y'know – but the whole town is set upon a great mound that rises straight up out of the grasslands. And they say you can see the Hall's golden roof glittering from miles away. But the Rohirrim….." and he grimaced. "They're a bit distant – they keep themselves apart, y'know. But, if you've got a couple of friends there, you should be fine." And Thorin and Tauriel gave each other a look.

The talk then turned to the weather. "It's pretty bracing at the moment," laughed the captain. "Not too bad as we hug the coast line but we'll be tossed about a bit as we pull away."

"Why can't we stick close to the shore?" asked Thorin, a bit anxiously.

"Because of the rocks," said Bracegirdle. "It's a really dangerous coast line – rocks as sharp as dragon's teeth. But I pull close in when I can. The ship will be up and down like a bucking horse tonight so we'll soon find out which of you is the good sailor." And he laughed uproariously again.

Thorin began to have a very bad feeling.

They all went to bed early. The children couldn't wait to sleep in their new quarters and everyone was tired after a long day. The Nancy Sue was bobbing up and down in quite a soothing manner at this point and Thorin climbed eagerly into bed alongside Tauriel.

"Yes, it is a bit of a tight fit," grinned Thorin as he pressed up close to his wife. "Perhaps you'd be more comfortable if I climbed on top of you," he volunteered generously. And he rolled on top of her and, propping himself on his forearms, he leaned down to give her a kiss.

"Mmm," he said, after a few short minutes. "Now that's an interesting rocking motion. I think I could get used to that." But Tauriel laughed and made him move onto his side before he squashed her.

They both fell asleep almost immediately, clasped in each other's arms. Thorin went out like a light and slept so deeply that he would not have woken until the morning if Rose hadn't come banging on the door. He slowly surfaced and suddenly realised that the ship was plunging and tossing quite erratically. It was far worse than the rocking he had experienced in the Mirkwood tree house.

"Thorin! Tauriel!" yelled Rose and he fell out of bed and staggered the few steps to the door. "It's Poppy," she said, as he opened it. "She's feeling really ill." And, trying to keep their footing on the heaving deck, they both edged their way back to the children's cabin. Poppy was sitting up in bed, looking very pale and crying.

"I'm going to be sick, Daddy!" she cried. And Thorin fumbled in the bedside cabinet for the basin he knew was there, then sat on the bed next to her and, holding back her hair, watched all that nice dinner she had eaten earlier make a reappearance. Once it was all up, he thought she would find some relief but the following dry retching was never-ending.

"Look after her for a moment," he said to Rose. "I'll fetch her mother."

But, when he got back to their cabin, Tauriel was also sitting on the edge of the bed. Her hand suddenly flew to her mouth and Thorin made a dive for their own basin. Soon, Tauriel was in as bad a state as Poppy. "Don't you feel sick, Thorin?" she asked wanly between heaves.

"No," said Thorin, much to his own surprise. He was feeling quite alert now that he had woken up and his stomach was completely undisturbed by the violent motion of the ship. He hastily threw on some clothes, found another bowl and took the full one away. He climbed up on deck and managed to dispose of the contents over the side after sensibly testing the direction of the wind.

He was about to go below again to relieve Poppy of her full basin when he bumped into Sam who was on watch. The young sailor gave a sympathetic nod towards the bowl. "Bad down below, is it?" he asked.

"Well," replied Thorin, "it could be worse. Rose hasn't succumbed."

Sam pointed to the breaking dawn streaking the sky. "Get them wrapped up and on deck," he said. "I'll see if I can help a bit more later when I come off duty."

But, when Thorin got back down to the children's cabin, Rose was being sick too in the spare bowl.

"I didn't feel sick until Poppy started throwing up. I fink I'm breaking out in sympathy."

And Thorin knew what she meant. After being out in the fresh air, the cabin seemed stale and unpleasant. He suddenly felt the gorge rising in his own throat and he knew they all had to get out.

"Wrap yourselves up warmly," he said. "I'm going back to get your mother and then we're all going up on deck."

But the two girls refused to help themselves. "I can't get dressed," moaned Rose, "I feel dizzy if I move my head."

"Make the ship stop, Daddy," grizzled Poppy.

So Thorin felt that a bit of brutality wouldn't go amiss and he bundled them both into their clothes, totally ignoring their pathetic cries, and then went back to his own cabin. There, Tauriel had reached the dry retching stage and was looking very green about the gills. "Help me, Thorin," she groaned. "I want to die."

"Get dressed," he said firmly. "Sam says we should all go up on deck." She looked at him as if he were mad.

"I can't move let alone get dressed," she said. But he yanked off her nightgown and pulled her into some warm clothes before carrying her up on deck. "I shall be sick all over you," she muttered into his shoulder, as he mounted the gangway.

"No, you won't," he said firmly. And she wasn't.

Thorin left her on a bench in a sheltered position. Then, he went and got Poppy next and carried her up to her mother. And, finally, he brought up Rose. The early sun's rays were beginning to shine on them in their little corner and the fresh air began to take effect. Soon they stopped vomiting, but they were still looking pretty ill.

Thorin went below again and brought up the water jug and he made them take little sips of water until, at last, they managed to keep it down. Then he went back to the cabins with a bucket of water pulled from the sea, and mopped up and cleaned the cabins so that they smelled a lot better.

By the time he had finished, Sam had appeared again on deck with a big tray of breakfast food. Tauriel and the children took one look and their hands flew to their mouths once more. "Make them eat," said Sam in an aside to Thorin. "They'll feel a lot better."

But Poppy just cried and refused to eat anything and Rose shook her head and compressed her lips.

"Lead by example, Tauriel," begged Thorin. So Tauriel forced down a few mouthfuls whilst Thorin took each child on his lap in turn and tried to hand feed them.

As the sun rose and the day got warmer and brighter, the food and the hot herbal teas that Sam brought them began to have an effect. Then Sam asked Thorin to help him in the cabins. There they erected a couple of hammocks, one for Poppy and one for Tauriel. "Rose should be all right as long as Poppy doesn't start throwing up again," Sam thought, "and, if the hammocks are used, they won't be so aware of the swell of the sea."

They all got through the next week or so by spending their days up on deck and by sleeping in the hammocks at night. And, at last, the Nancy Sue turned into the wide mouth of the Isen and all was calm and still at last.

.o00o.

Pt III

Sailing quietly and smoothly up the river for the next three days proved to be the best part of the journey. Finally, and much to Thorin's relief, everyone felt better and Poppy and Tauriel vacated their hammocks and returned to their beds.

"At last," sighed Thorin as he snuggled into his wife. "I was beginning to have nightmares where you forever dangled in a hammock over my head and I couldn't reach you."

Tauriel wrapped her arms about him. "Thank you so much, Thorin, for everything you've done for us this past week and more. You've been so kind and patient with everyone. I don't know what we would have done without you." And she kissed him tenderly.

Thorin smiled into his beard. He was rather pleased with her praise. It was usually Tauriel's job to look after the family when anyone was sick because elves were seldom ill themselves but, this time, he had had to shoulder the responsibility himself. And everyone was so pathetically grateful for his gentle care that it had given him a really good feeling.

"It was nothing," he said airily. "Any time…..Except not any time in the immediately forseeable future, please." And he laughed and returned her kisses.

"And now," he continued, "I think we'd better not waste any more time. If we don't try out this bed quickly, the journey will be over before we've even started."

.o00o.

After two slow and easy days on the river, Sam suddenly called them up on deck. The dawn was just breaking on a clear day and they all gazed wide-eyed as the rising sun shone upon the white city of Minas Tirith, now just apparent in the distance. "How amazing," said Tauriel, as its white walls gleamed in the increasing light.

"We'll be there by this afternoon," said Sam. And it was such a wonderful sight that they stayed up on deck for the rest of the day.

"It's my home city," said Sam, leaning on the ship's rail. "I'm looking forward to seeing my parents again – we're getting shore leave for a couple of days."

The children flung endless questions at him and Sam did his best to answer them. He had always wanted to travel and his mother had suggested he be a sailor. Sam gave a wry grin. "'Become a sailor and see the world,' she said to me. But what did I see?"

"You saw the sea!" they all laughed in response. This was a common saying in a port like the Grey Havens, but they all giggled together.

Sam had been at sea, working for Barnaby Waller, for more than seven years now and had found that it suited him. "You get to see people and places and your mind is opened to all sorts of new ideas," he said. "Minas Tirith is a beautiful and ancient city but, if you are born there, the wonder of it is lost on you. Every time I come home, I am much more impressed by the place than when I lived here." He cast a side-long glance at Thorin and Tauriel. "And don't be surprised if you get stared at either. We're a long way south here and don't get to see many elves or dwarves. I remember the first time I ever saw elves at the Grey Havens. I was quite gob-smacked…..In a nice way, of course," he added when Tauriel raised an indignant eyebrow. "The people of Minas Tirith are very fine and noble-looking – except for me," he grinned, "but you elves must be the most beautiful creatures on Middle-earth."

"I'll go along with that," rumbled Thorin, as he slipped an arm around his wife's waist and hugged her to him.

Sam's father was a smith, working in the Steward's forges, and Thorin had time for a brief and interesting conversation with the young man about this before he was called away to his duties. Suddenly, as the fabulous city loomed ever larger on the horizon, their adventure seemed to be beginning.

The port of Osgiliath had formerly been the capital of Gondor before the honour passed on to Minas Tirith. It was rather run down but they could still see that it had once been a fine place, built, like Minas Tirith, in white stone. As they disembarked, they chatted with Captain Bracegirdle about their return trip. The Nancy Sue was sailing even further south in a few days' time but would be returning to Osgiliath after a couple of weeks and then would sail on to the Grey Havens once more. Thorin was hoping to pick up with the ship then but another of Waller's ships would be docking a week later if they were held up.

"Don't worry," said Bracegirdle, "our ships are backwards and forwards all the time. You're bound to meet up with one of us – although I must admit that I would like to hear all about your trip to Edoras on a return journey."

He told them where they could hire horses and soon they were crossing the few miles that led through fertile fields to the shining city. Poppy was riding with Tauriel and when they caught up with Sam who was trudging along on foot, Rose offered to share her horse with him and he mounted behind her.

Sam suggested various comfortable inns in the city but he was beginning to feel unhappy as he imagined the unwelcome attention they might soon be subjected to. He had really enjoyed the company of this charming family and so he suddenly looked up and said: "Rather than stay at an inn, would you like to stay at my parents' house? You could see better how we live and you could have a good chat with my father," he added, looking at Thorin.

"Well, that's a bit of a reckless offer," laughed Thorin. "I'm sure your mother will be none too pleased when you roll over the threshold with us in tow."

But Sam reassured them that his mother had a lively mind. She was easily bored and had suggested he become a sailor so that she could enjoy his life vicariously when he came home with tall tales of the sea. By the time they reached the city gates, they were persuaded.

Before the gate was a large, paved area where various roads met. "That's the Great West Road to Rohan," said Sam, pointing. "You'll be needing that when you set out for Edoras."

They stood marvelling for a few moments at the Great Gate, made of iron and steel. "No enemy will ever breach that," said Sam smugly.

"I reckon it depends on the enemy," replied Thorin, thinking of the dragon, Smaug.

They entered the city then and began their climb. The streets were wonderfully paved and lined with elegant and beautiful houses. From a distance, it had all looked perfect, but, up close, there were signs of neglect and decay.

Thorin tutted. "A hundred dwarven masons would soon set this to rights," he said.

Sam was a bit defensive. "Well, it is a very ancient city," he said. "And we're too busy out defending the borders of Middle-earth to waste time on building work. We guard your backs, you know, and we get no thanks for it."

Tauriel soothed him and told him about her work at the outpost and also about the work of the Rangers on the northern borders. "I agree it is a thankless task," she said. And Sam's ruffled feathers were smoothed down.

Sam's parents lived on the fifth circle and there was a fine view from their front doorstep. When they followed Sam into the house, his mother, Jacintha, shrieked and threw her arms around him. Sam looked sideways at his new friends and mumbled: "Anyone would think she only saw me once a year instead of once a month."

And then Jacintha realised that she had guests and, patting her hair breathlessly into place, asked to be introduced. She stared in amazement at the lovely elf, the fine-looking dwarf and their two beautiful daughters. "Oh, mother, don't stare," laughed Sam. "They've had enough of that climbing up through the city."

And Jacintha looked embarrassed and apologised. "But, I've never seen such a beautiful family before," she said politely.

"And I expect you've never seen an elf or a dwarf before either," said Rose. "But they're worth staring at, aren't they?" she giggled.

"Yes, really worth staring at," said Jacintha and she laughed merrily and everyone felt comfortable with each other.

She was a pleasant-looking woman with Sam's rosy cheeks and dancing eyes, plus a welcoming and motherly manner. She bustled them into the house, brought out food and drink and insisted that it would be no trouble at all putting them up for a few days until they set out for Rohan. Sam showed them around and they discovered that it was a spacious house with a lovely walled garden to the rear and a barn to stable the horses. Soon, the Oakenshields felt very much at home.

Over the next two days, Sam's good-natured father took delight in showing Thorin and Rose the Steward's forges on the lowest level; Tauriel spent a lot of time in the kitchen with Jacintha, exchanging recipes and discussing herbal remedies, whilst Poppy had the best time of all being thoroughly spoiled by the entire household who thought she was the most beautiful child they had ever seen.

But Sam had been right. Whenever they went out onto the streets, they were followed by a curious crowd of citizens. It was rather unnerving and so, when Sam's shore leave was over, they made their goodbyes and descended down through the different levels with him to the main gate. There were handshakes and hugs and then Sam waved them off to Rohan on the Great West Road.

.o00o.

Pt IV

Thorin, Tauriel and Rose had their own horses but Poppy took turns to ride with each of them. "How long will it take to get to Edoras, Daddy?" she asked Thorin when it was his turn to take her up before him.

"About five days, if we travel steadily and make reasonable time," he said.

Everyone was good; no-one complained of the pace and everyone did what Thorin told them to do. And they did make excellent time and, upon the fifth day, they expected to see the Golden Hall in the distance, its gold roof shining in the sun. They got up early and set off full of excitement.

"How pleased do you think Thurstan and Aelfrida will be to see us?" asked Rose.

"I don't think they'll be best pleased," laughed Thorin, "but we were very nice to them until they behaved badly and I think they will feel obliged to be nice to us."

And then, as they passed over the flat, grassy plains, a shaft of sunlight came out from behind a cloud and, in the distance, on a great hill, they saw the glint of gold. "There it is!" yelled Poppy.

But, just as they paused to admire their first glimpse of the great hall of Edoras, there was the thunder of hooves and, suddenly, they were surrounded by horsemen who circled around them in a rather intimidating way and who finally swept to a halt, their horses plunging and rearing and their long spears pointed at the family. Poppy was riding with Rose and she grasped her sister in fear. But the riders ignored the children and their leader snarled instead at Thorin and Tauriel: "And what are a dwarf and an elf up to, travelling here in the Riddermark?"

Thorin's hand hovered over the hilt of his sword and his face twisted angrily. How dare they frighten his children! And Tauriel, thinking similar thoughts, raised her bow. But it was Rose who suddenly pushed her horse forward and snapped: "Well, what do you think, Riders? We've come to Edoras to visit friends and a great welcome you've just given us." And she batted away a spear that was poking at her.

The Rider grinned and the tension was broken. "What have we here?" he laughed. "A budding shield maiden?"

"Be careful, Rider," said Tauriel, "or you will experience the sharp edge of my daughter's tongue. And I can promise you that it is keener than any shield maiden's sword."

The men guffawed and lowered their spears. The leader bowed courteously to Rose. "And what are the names of these friends, lady?" he asked.

"Thurstan and Aelfrida," Rose said sharply, still not happy with their reception. "We met them in Ered Luin last year."

Suddenly all the men were roaring with laughter. "Ah, all is explained at last," the Rider said, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Now I can see where Aelfrida got it from."

"Got what from?" asked Rose curtly. She wasn't quite sure whether or not she was supposed to be offended.

"Her attitude, of course," he replied and they all burst out laughing again.

The leader turned to Thorin and Tauriel. "Our apologies," he said, "for our lack of courtesy. But we can take no chances with any strangers in Rohan these days."

"Even when the strangers are children?" said Thorin, still feeling a bit spikey.

"Even when they are children," came the response. "Our enemies could use them to make us lower our guard. But, come," he added cheerfully, "we are going to Edoras and we shall escort you there."

They set off in the direction of the golden gleam, Thorin and Tauriel riding with the handsome and bearded leader, Wilfrid, and the children riding behind with the rest of the troop who were gaining much amusement from their sharp retorts.

"And is Fengel still king of the Rohirrim?" asked Thorin.

"Yes," answered Wilfrid. "He's an old man now but I'm sure he will be pleased to see you." And he glanced down with a grin at Thorin's heavy gold rings and mithril belt. Thorin was too polite to say that he had heard of the greed of their king and of the rift between him and his son, Thengel, who had left Edoras some years ago for Gondor. He lived there now with his family and had vowed never to return during his father's lifetime.

But they had little interest in Fengel. "Are Thurstan and Aelfrida married yet?" asked Tauriel.

"Yes, answered Wilfrid. "They were married soon after they returned from Ered Luin." And then he bowed his head respectfully to Thorin. "We have heard much of the deeds of Thorin Oakenshield in the far regions of the Blue Mountains."

"And what of the deeds of Tauriel, his wife? Have you heard about them too?" asked Thorin with a raised eyebrow. Knowing the sort of society that these Riders came from, he expected the answer to be "no".

But Wilfrid nodded and said: "Yes, Aelfrida has mentioned your wife and her outpost." And then his lips twitched and, glancing at the willowy elf, he laughed. "Yes, she has mentioned them – repeatedly." And he laughed again.

Thorin felt indignant at the Rider's manner, but Tauriel placed her hand on his arm and said quietly: "Not now, Thorin. There will be time enough." And then she changed the subject.

Poppy and Rose were riding within a tight circle of fascinated younger warriors. Rose was nearly fifteen, and, her fond parents thought, seemed to grow more beautiful by the day. The young men couldn't keep their eyes off her glossy, black hair which fell in such an attractive mass of curls down her back. No-one had black hair in Rohan and they jostled to ride at her side.

"How old are you, then?" asked Egbert, a handsome, clean cut youth of sixteen. When she told him, he next asked if she were betrothed.

"Of course not!" replied Rose in surprise. But when she saw him grin, she asked at what age girls got betrothed in Rohan.

"Oh," he said, "sometimes they can be betrothed when they're children, although they don't get married until they're at least fourteen."

The thought that she might be married by now if she lived in Rohan shocked Rose. "And what if I'm betrothed as a child and then grow up and don't like the man I'm betrothed to?" she asked.

The circle of young men laughed at her naivety. "Well," said one of the youths, "it wouldn't make any difference. Your first duty as a woman of Rohan would be to please your husband and to give him children. You would be gratified that someone wanted to marry you in the first place. Although," he continued with a cheeky grin, "I reckon that any of us here would be quite gratified if their betrothed turned out to be you." And a lewd snigger ran around the group.

Rose was not easily embarrassed. "But I don't think that the feeling would be mutual," she said coolly, and gave the speaker a long stare so that he dropped his gaze and felt quite taken aback by her response. A Rohan girl would have blushed; but she would also have been flattered and relieved that a young man was paying her attention. Anything was better than being left on the shelf. Yet, this girl looked ready to punch him on the nose.

But Egbert wasn't so easily deterred. "I'd marry you," he offered generously. He was very popular amongst the young girls and didn't doubt his powers of attraction. He gave her his special smouldering look that always did the trick and rode close to her so that his knee brushed against hers.

"But," retorted Rose, "I don't think I'd marry you." And she looked him slowly up and down. "When I marry, it will be to a man and not a boy."

Everyone except Egbert roared with laughter. This was fun! It wasn't often that a girl came back at them and it felt quite exciting. But Egbert glowered and pulled his horse away.

"And I wouldn't marry him either," piped little Poppy to her sister. "He's big-headed like my brother." And the laughter continued.

Soon they were through the gate of Edoras and climbing the hill towards the Golden Hall. It was a town built entirely of wood, but it was very fine, thought Thorin. There were individual hall houses with beautifully carved gables, each surrounded by a well-stocked vegetable garden. Healthy-looking and strapping, blond-haired children played at the side of the road and looked up curiously as they rode past. Then, when they were finally close to the summit, Wilfrid stopped and gestured to a large house.

"This is Thurstan's hall," he said. "I hope we shall meet with you later." He received their thanks and then he and his men rode on to the palace of Edoras.

The family dismounted and then tentatively approached the front door. When Thorin knocked, Aelfrida opened it. She looked totally flustered, then opened her mouth and shut it again. Then she looked anxious and finally seemed pleased. "What on earth….?" she started. But then she threw wide the door and said, "Come in!"

She made them sit down at the long, hall table whilst she got them food and drink. And then she sat with them and said: "Well, I can't imagine what you're doing here but I am just SO glad to see you!" And the whole family felt quite startled at her enthusiasm.

They gave her the details of their journey and then Tauriel said: "We've been told that you and Thurstan are married now."

"Yes," she replied happily. "He's a good man and I knew I was right to go chasing after him."

"But," said Thorin, indicating her breeches and chain mail, "I thought you were going to give all this up when you became a wife."

Aelfrida leaned across the table and took both the elf and the dwarf warmly by the hand. "And if it hadn't been for you two, that's just what would have happened. But, after our encounter with you, Thurstan and I have chosen a different path." She sighed. "It is very hard sometimes but perhaps now that you are both here, we can show them all that there is more than one way for a woman to lead her life." And her eyes glowed.

Tauriel and Thorin looked at each other and wondered what they had got themselves into.

.o00o.

Up at the palace stables, Wilfrid found Thurstan tending to his horse. "You've got some visitors," he said. And when Thurstan raised an eyebrow, he continued: "An elf and a dwarf and their two beautiful daughters."

Thurstan's jaw hung agape and then he hastily tidied his things away and hurried out of the stable. "I thought you'd be pleased," shouted Wilfrid after him.

And, goodness, was he pleased. Reinforcements, at last! Since their return to Rohan, their lives had been made difficult by the sneers and laughter of his fellows as he and his wife had tried to lead a life of mutual respect. One small mercy was that no-one knew what went on in their bedroom where Aelfrida always took the lead; if they had, they would never have heard the last of it. And he grinned as he thought about their love life – the others just didn't know what they were missing out on! But everyone knew that he supported Aelfrida in her determination to continue as a shield maiden – even though she wasn't a maiden any more – not by a long shot. And he grinned to himself again. But the other warriors disapproved of his support for her and also noticed how often he deferred to her opinion. He had become the butt of many jokes as the men decided that their relationship just wasn't normal. And, if Thurstan hadn't been bigger and stronger than most of them, things could have been an awful lot worse.

He burst into the hall house and clasped the Oakenshields in a delighted bear-hug. "Welcome! Welcome, to my home!" he cried. "You cannot imagine how pleased we are to see you!"

Things must be bad, thought Thorin.

And then the couple told them how coming to Ered Luin had changed their attitudes and their lives. "By the time we got back here to Edoras," said Aelfrida, "we just knew we couldn't carry on as before. You two opened our eyes."

Then Rose made them all laugh when she told them about the exchanges she had had with the young warriors. "I bet you came as a shock to them," grinned Aelfrida. "They try to make me feel as though there's something wrong with me and then you come along and shake up their opinions a bit."

"Well," said Rose, "perhaps we can shake them up a bit more."

"That's what we're hoping," grinned Thurstan.

.o00o.

Pt V

That evening, Poppy was put to bed and left in the care of the servants, whilst the rest of them set off for the nightly gathering in the mead hall of Fengel the King. Tauriel and Thorin looked around in awe at the beautiful interior of the palace. It was wonderfully carved and painted and the great central hearth gave it a delightful, old-fashioned air that the houses at the Grey Havens, with their stone fireplaces and chimneys lacked. "Do you remember the central hearth at my old hall?" asked Thorin and Tauriel smiled and nodded and held his hand.

The place was already packed and Tauriel noticed that the only women present were the servants. Fengel sat at the end of the room on his throne looking old and tired and bad-tempered. Thurstan brought the Oakenshields forward and introduced them.

"It is not our custom," said Fengel in a dry and whispery voice, "for women to gather in the mead hall of an evening." At this, Thorin's eyes sparked, something that did not go unnoticed by the other warriors. "But as our guests," the king continued, "and as strangers who might not practise the same customs, your wife and your daughter – and, for this once, Aelfrida too - are welcome to stay this evening." And, as the men looked at the very beautiful elf and her extremely striking daughter, they felt pleased that their king had made this decision.

And then wine was served and the king thanked Thorin for all the useful information that Thurstan had brought back from Ered Luin. "In the past year," he said, "we have tried to implement many of your ideas for the defence of this region."

"And you need to thank my wife too," said Thorin firmly. "Thurstan spent time with her picking up ideas at her outpost." The king compressed his lips and Thorin waited.

"Indeed, yes," was all he finally said.

And then a harp was brought and Thorin was invited to sing of his great deeds. And Thorin sang about the dragon, Smaug, and the creature's final overthrow and about the Battle of the Five Armies. Then all sat entranced both at the beauty of his voice and at the heroic tales of his younger years. And, when he had finished, there was wild applause and the eyes of the men shone with admiration.

"And now," said Thorin, perhaps my wife can tell you all about her battles with the giant spiders of Mirkwood when she was Thranduil's captain of the guard and about her struggles against the orcs in Ered Luin." But everyone's face went suddenly blank and Thorin began to realise what Thurstan and Aelfrida were up against.

The king smiled politely. "No more stories tonight," he said. "It's time for some other amusement, I think." And then his warriors cleared an area before his throne and entertained the assembled company with various trials of arms.

Later, as the men were resting between bouts, Thurstan suggested that they might like to see Thorin's skill. They all applauded the idea and Thorin fetched Orcrist and his axe from the door where he had left them. There was much interest in his weapons. They tested the weight of his axe, whistling through their teeth, and they admired the exquisite beauty of his elven sword.

"One against one?" asked Fengel.

"How about one against five?" laughed Thorin. "I enjoy difficult odds."

And the men guffawed at his boastfulness but it didn't take long for Thorin to disarm all his opponents. There was a stunned silence and then they cheered him to the rafters.

"And perhaps a few of you would like to test my wife's skills too," said Thorin. But silence fell upon the hall.

"It is not our custom for men to fight against women," said the king.

"Ah, but it is OUR custom," grinned Thorin. "And we are your guests."

Fengel felt under an obligation of hospitality and so reluctantly called Egbert forward. Egbert looked even more reluctant than his king. "I would not want to pit her against one of our seasoned warriors," he said. "But, perhaps this young man would be appropriate." And he looked at Tauriel's slender form.

But, Rose stepped forward then. "No," she said, "that won't give anyone any fun. My mother would flatten 'im in seconds. But, I'll take 'im on. He's about the same age as me. My swordplay isn't good enough yet, but my wrestling's not bad."

A ripple of excitement ran around the room. It would be – interesting – to see a girl wrestle and they stamped their feet in approval. Egbert nodded and his eyes gleamed. Yes, he quite fancied the idea of pinning Rose to the floor. And the king lifted his hand in agreement.

At first they circled each other warily and then they closed in on each other. Egbert grinned at her, confident of an easy win. But Rose knew all the dirty tricks of street fighting and, within a very short time, she had tossed him across her hip and he was sprawled on the floor. For a moment, the Rohirrim sat with their mouths open in disbelief and then they all cheered. And the loudest cheer came from Aelfrida.

"Now," said Rose triumphantly, her arms akimbo, "will you believe me when I say that my mother can easily take on two or three of your men at once?" The king's interest was piqued and he nodded to three of his biggest men. He was determined to knock this silly idea on its head once and for all. Tauriel went to collect her knives and Thorin sat back in his chair and smiled.

Again, much interest was shown in her elven weapons and then the bout began. The crowd were soon gawping. She was so fast and so light on her feet; and, just as in Thorin's bout, the weapons of her opponents were soon sent flying from their hands. Again, there was an incredulous silence and again the rafters shook with the crowd's applause.

"Well," said the king, "I believe we certainly have seen something here this evening." And he gestured Tauriel forward to tell them all about her exploits at the outpost. Thurstan and Aelfrida, meanwhile, were hugging themselves with glee.

The carousing in the hall got rowdier as the evening progressed and finally Thurstan, Aelfrida and their guests decided it was wise to leave. Thorin drew off a heavy gold ring from his finger and presented it to the king, thanking him for the hospitality of his hall. Fengel was delighted and clapped Thorin somewhat drunkenly on his shoulder. "Come again," he said. "You and your family are welcome any time."

Back in Thurstan's hall, Aelfrida danced around the room. "That showed them!" she exclaimed. "Perhaps they'll treat us differently now."

But Tauriel took her hands gently. "It is difficult to change the way a whole society thinks," she said. "Soon, this night will be forgotten by most of them. It will take many little steps before the women of Rohan are treated in the way that they deserve."

Aelfrida looked solemn. "And I shall continue to take those little steps even if it is for a lifetime. Perhaps one day a great shield maiden will come along and do such a deed of courage that the Rohirrim will be shocked into a change of attitude."

"I hope so," said Tauriel.

But, that night, they decided that they would all leave the next day. "Before things take a nasty turn," said Thorin. "People don't like to be made a fool of and, by the time they've had a think about things, they might decide to take their revenge."

"Yes," agreed Rose. "I think that Egbert would definitely like to take his revenge after I've made him look such an idiot."

So, when the sun rose that morning, they readied their horses, kissed each other fondly and set out again along the Great West Road, but this time eastwards towards Minas Tirith.

.o00o.

Poppy moaned all the way back to Osgiliath that she hadn't had the opportunity to see inside the Golden Hall. "Well, the roof is the best bit," Rose assured her and she had to be satisfied.

They made good time and only had to stay a couple of days in the port before the Nancy Sue came sailing into dock. They were glad to get on board again and Captain Bracegirdle gave them a hearty welcome. "And I want to hear all about your Rohan trip at dinner," he said.

As they lay pressed tightly together in the narrow bed that night, Thorin and Tauriel thought about their adventure.

"Adventures are tiring, aren't they?" said Tauriel. "And half the time they aren't much fun. Now all I've got to look forward to for the rest of this trip is a hammock and a sick bowl."

Thorin laughed and growled in her ear. "Well, I'm looking forward to the next few nights on the river. But you're right," and he kissed her long, white throat. "Adventures? Who needs them? I think we should make a pact not to give in to any of the children's wheedling if they try to persuade us again."

Then he rolled on top of her. "This is the best sort of adventure," he said huskily. "It's an adventure every time I get into bed with you. And ALL of it is fun."

And, as Tauriel seized his plaits and pulled him down towards her, she found she had to agree.

.o00o.

They stood on deck with Sam the next day as the ship pulled away from the view of Minas Tirith. It's so beautiful," sighed Rose. "I wonder if we shall ever see it again."

"Of course you will," said Sam.

But none of them ever did.

.o00o.


	17. Chapter 17 Thorin Sorts Things Out

Rose is now a teenager and her siblings are growing up too. What problems will Rose find herself with? And can Thorin sort things out for her? There are at least two more stories after this before it's truly all sorted out, so don't jump the gun yet! Have fun, everybody!

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THORIN SORTS THINGS OUT

PT I

"Oh, look," said Rose, standing over Thorin as he sat at the diningroom table, "I think you've got a new white hair." And she reached into the mass of dark curls that tumbled down his back and gave a tug.

"Ow," said Thorin.

"Don't do that," said Tauriel. "For every one you pull out, two will grow in its place."

"And how would you know?" laughed Rose. "Elves don't get white hairs. I should imagine I shall grow them long before you're ever likely to have any." They all joined in the laughter. Their different rates of aging and the sad fact that two out of the five of them were not immortal was a difficult burden to bear and they had all learned to cope by making jokes about it.

Rose was sixteen and looked like any other human teenage girl. Thorin was over two hundred but dwarves aged slowly and he looked scarcely older than when Rose had first met him eight years earlier, apart from the odd grey hair. They both expected to die within the next seventy years or so and it was a moot point who would die first. Tauriel was more than a thousand years old but she just didn't age at all. She was still young and beautiful with a fall of lovely, golden hair. And, unless she was actually killed, in battle, for instance, she expected to live forever.

Thorin looked across the table at his son, Arion, who was half-elven - half elf and half dwarf - as was his sister, Poppy. Elrond was uncertain if these two children had inherited the gift of immortality from their mother because they were the product of a union unheard of before in Middle-earth. It was a case of wait and see. But, at the very least, they should have very long lives.

The handsome dwarf looked up fondly at his adopted daughter as she stood there grinning with the white hair still dangling from her fingers. By chance, she looked very much as if she could have been his own, natural daughter and Arion's sister. All three had a great mass of black hair and vivid, blue eyes. Poppy was five and had a head of golden ringlets that bounced as she walked and her mother's brown eyes which were flecked with green. She was very spoiled and knew she was pretty and deliberately shook her curls when there were visitors so that they danced in the sun.

Arion was ten and was a very sturdy, very good-looking boy. It was interesting that the elven blood somehow made him and Poppy appear more grown-up than they actually were. They were both confident, carrying themselves in an almost adult way, and they had both learned to talk articulately at an early age. They also had that special beauty and grace that belonged to the elves but, at the same time, they looked stronger and not quite so willowy.

Rose was a human, thought Thorin, but, to him, she also seemed very special. She might not have Tauriel's ethereal looks and yet she had a striking beauty all of her own. His hair and Arion's had a coarseness to it but Rose's was black and glossy. It was very long and fell to her waist, even longer than Tauriel's who kept hers just below her shoulder blades because she was a captain of a group of elven soldiers and needed to give an example as far as hair length was concerned.

His daughter's blue eyes always seemed to be dancing with amusement, whereas he and Arion were more likely to be caught out glowering. And she was tall and strong with surprisingly lithe and muscled arms, a result of working in his forge and training to be a smith. She was very proud of her arms and often wore sleeveless dresses and silver arm-rings that showed them off. She was already the sort of girl that you looked at twice if she passed you in the street.

They were such a strange family, he thought. Arion was a warg-rider; both he and his sister had unusual mixed blood; Rose was a female smith; and he, a dwarf, had married an elf. All these things were unknown in Middle-earth before the Oakenshield family came along and did them.

There was a knock at the door and Lostwithiel, Tauriel's second-in-command, was standing on the doorstep. "I'm on my way down to the Grey Havens," he said. "Any food going spare?" And they invited him to sit down and join them for lunch.

He took a chair and swung Poppy up onto his lap. The little girl giggled with glee, flung her arms around his neck and plonked a big kiss on his cheek. Lostwithiel had a very special relationship with her because he had been the reluctant midwife at her birth. She knew she was special to him and could wrap him around her little finger. "Have you brought me a present, 'Thiel?" she asked prettily and with a sweet smile.

Arion and Rose looked at each other, thinking how Thorin would have slapped them down if they had asked anything like that when they were young. But, Thorin just smiled indulgently.

Lostwithiel felt in his pocket and brought out an empty hand saying, in a teasing voice: "No, looks like there's nothing today." She knew he was lying and pouted, tossing her curls. So he felt in the other pocket and said: "My goodness! What's this?" and he brought out a cleverly carved and jointed doll wearing a pretty dress. She grabbed it from his hand, slipped off his lap and then went to a corner of the room to play with her prize. No-one remonstrated with her for her rudeness; instead, the three adults sat there with silly smiles on their faces. Rose and Arion looked at each other again.

"How's Warg?" asked Lostwithiel, turning back to the table and addressing Arion. Arion's eyes lit up. He could talk all day about his terrifying pet.

"I rode him for twenty miles the other day," he exclaimed, "and he wasn't even breathing hard when we got back." This huge, wolf-like creature was sometimes ridden by orcs but never by elves or dwarves. Arion had been training Warg for over five years now and the animal was very responsive to the child. Arion had taught him to have respect for the rest of his family as important members of the pack but he would only obey the boy. Dog was Warg's best friend and they slept together in one of the stables where the horses and the ponies were no longer afraid of him.

Arion and Lostwithiel bent their heads together in a very detailed conversation about his pet because, when he was older, Arion hoped to join his mother's troop - and so would Warg. And Lostwithiel was already very excited about the uses they could put him to.

Thorin noticed the way that Rose had become very quiet since the elf-lord's entrance. With everyone else, she was loud and confident and lively and he wondered why, in the last year, she seemed to become shy and withdrawn in Lostwithiel's presence, particularly since they had got on together so well when she was younger.

Tauriel brought in some food and Lostwithiel broke off his conversation with Arion. He looked around the table and addressed Rose with a grin: "How's my beautiful little friend, then?" he said. "I must admit," he added teasingly, "I can't believe how well you've scrubbed up in recent years." Rose blushed and looked down at the table. Only six months ago she would have come back fighting.

"Don't tease her," said Tauriel quietly. "She's a young lady now, not a little girl."

Lostwithiel pulled an apologetic face and said: "Sorry, Rose. I've got so used to that bossy little girl telling me what to do, that I've hardly noticed that you've changed and grown up." And he bent elegantly over her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. But Rose only blushed even more and snatched up some dirty plates and took them into the kitchen.

"Now what have I done?" he asked Tauriel.

"Don't worry about it," said Thorin. "Girls of Rose's age are always a bit moody."

"And what do you know about girls of Rose's age?" snorted Tauriel and she went to join Rose in the kitchen.

Women!" said Thorin.

Five minutes later, Lostwithiel came out to join them, hoping to put right whatever he had done wrong. "Actually, Rose, it's partly you I've come to see today." Tauriel looked askance and left them to it.

Rose stopped washing plates. "Me?" she said.

"Yes, you," he grinned. "Best up-and-coming smith in Ered Luin. I want you to take on a commission for me."

She wiped her hands with a look of excitement on her face. This would be her first commission.

"Can we go out to the forge?" he said. "We can discuss things more easily there."

Rose eagerly led the elf out to the forge and then got out paper so that they could discuss a design. "So, what do you want me to make, then?" she asked.

"A bangle," he replied. "In silver."

"Do you mean an arm ring like mine?" And she pointed to her own.

"No, I mean a bracelet. You, know, one that goes around the wrist. For a lady," he said with a shy, excited look in his eyes. "I thought that you'd know better what a lady would like, more than Thorin. And that's why I'm asking you."

And he sat down next to her and rattled on about his own ideas for the bracelet, not seeming to notice that Rose had gone quiet again.

Rose felt like crying. He hadn't waited for her! When she had first met him on the day that Poppy had been born, she had decided in her childish way that he was the one that she was going to marry when she grew up. And then he had got into such a state over playing midwife that she had concluded that he wasn't the one after all. That evening, however, he had become her friend. She still remembered the warmth of the wall they had leaned against when he had put a comforting arm about her shoulders as she cried with jealousy over the way her life had suddenly seemed to change once the baby was born. She had seen him regularly since then and her relationship with him had been a bit like the one she had with Thorin – teasing, bantering, sharp and warm.

And then, suddenly, last year, things had changed. Tauriel had taken the children on a little holiday down to the Grey Havens and they had been invited to a feast at one of the elven palaces. She had worn a beautiful, grown-up dress and, once the dancing started, she didn't lack for partners. And then someone had come up behind her and whispered in her ear: "May I have the pleasure of the next dance with the most beautiful girl in the room." It was Lostwithiel and she had turned, all ready with an acerbic retort on her lips. But the words were never spoken because he was standing there, not in his usual drab uniform but in an outfit of black silk, beautifully cut to show off his fine figure. His pale blond hair was spread out upon his shoulders and showed off to stunning effect against the dark material while the top was open at the neck revealing his strong, tanned throat.

Rose went through the motions of the dance in a dream and she remembered why it was she had wanted to marry him five years previously. Now she just wanted to grow up very quickly so that he would see her as a woman and not just as a little friend. "Please, let him wait," she would whisper every night as she stared up at the stars.

She picked up her piece of paper. "Tell me about her," she said to him, "and then I shall have a better idea of what might suit her."

"Well," he said, "she's very beautiful, of course," and he gazed into the flames of the forge as if he was picturing her face there. "I saw her for the first time last month. She's an elf from Lothlorien and I'd never met her before. She's moved to the Grey Havens and is thinking of joining our troop. When she wears her fighting knives and her bow on her shoulder, she reminds me a bit of your mother, you know." He continued to stare dreamily into the flames. "It's her birthday next month and I thought I might give her a bracelet."

"Does she like you?" Rose asked bleakly.

"Yes, I think she does. We always seem to have so much to say to each other. And if we meet socially, we dance together a lot."

Rose tried to shake off her despair. This was only a childish crush, she assured herself, just like the one she had had on Legolas. But when she compared her feelings for Legolas with the feelings she had for Lostwithiel, she knew that it wasn't a crush. A few more years. If only he had waited just a few more years.

They talked through the design together. "I can have it ready in a week," she said. And then he kissed her on the cheek and went back to the outpost.

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PT II

After a passionate hour of love-making, neither Thorin nor Tauriel had gone to sleep. They had been lovers for 12 years now but their feelings for each other were just as intense as on that first night in Lake Town. Now Thorin didn't want to fall into unconsciousness; he wanted to be awake, to be there with her, to experience every possible moment. He sighed and caressed her hair.

"Still awake, my love?" she said softly.

"Yes," he said and he began to suck her ear-lobe gently. Why hadn't he noticed in twelve years what an attractive feature her ear-lobe was? Perhaps it was because there were so many other attractive features to work his way through. "Why aren't you asleep?" he asked.

"I'm worried about Rose," she said.

"Mmm," he said, nibbling his way up her ear to the sensitive, pointy bit. This usually drove her wild. "What about Rose?" he mumbled. He redoubled his efforts and began to edge his body over hers.

"I think she's in love with Lostwithiel," she said.

"What!" yelled Thorin sitting bolt upright in bed.

"Shush!" whispered Tauriel. "You'll wake the children." And she grabbed his plaits and pulled him back down on the pillow.

"He'd better not have touched her!" he whispered fiercely.

"Of course he hasn't!" she whispered back. "She's in love with him, not he with her."

Thorin sat up again and said angrily: "Why isn't he? She's the best-looking girl for miles around!"

Tauriel pulled him down again. "I think he still sees her as a little girl. After all, he's so much older than she is."

"Well," he grinned, "you're so much older than me. Do you see me as a little boy?"

"Quite often," she said severely.

He snorted indignantly and, rolling on top of her, began to demonstrate that he wasn't a little boy. But Tauriel pushed him off. "Now, stop it, Thorin," she remonstrated. "I want to talk about Rose. This could be quite serious. He could break her heart."

Thorin knew all about broken hearts and so he stopped his teasing and drew his wife into the crook of his arm. "So, do you want me to do something about it?"

"Yes," she said. "You work with her most days in the forge. Can't you get around to the subject of Lostwithiel? I think she'll talk to you."

Thorin groaned. "I had a feeling you were going to say that. What makes you think she'll talk to me rather than you?"

"Because she will," said Tauriel.

"All right," sighed Thorin. "I'll try tomorrow morning...Now," he murmured in that delightful ear, "what shall we do until tomorrow morning comes?"

"Sleep?" she suggested.

.o00o.

The next morning, Thorin was hammering away at a sword and Rose was sitting up to the work-bench drawing some designs for a bracelet. Thorin stopped hammering and asked casually what she was doing.

"I'm designing a bracelet for Lostwithiel," she said. "It's my first commission."

Thorin looked delighted. "But why didn't you tell us all?" he said. "You know how excited we would have been for you. It's a landmark moment." And he went across to the bench and gave her a hug. She hugged him tightly back and suddenly began sniffing into his chest. "Hey, what's all this?" he asked, leaning back from her and lifting her chin. He saw the tears in her eyes and gently wiped away one with his thumb. This only succeeded in causing yet more to flow.

"Lostwithiel's in love," she sobbed. "He wants me to make the bracelet for the woman of his dreams." And she rubbed her eyes fiercely.

Thorin sat down and drew her onto his lap and she felt very much like a little girl again, needing his comfort.

"And this is a problem," he said, "because you're in love with him."

"H-how did you know?" she wept into his shoulder.

"Oh," he said airily, "we dads just do. Now, come on," he continued, reaching into his leather apron and bringing out a dirty rag with which he wiped her face, "tell me from the beginning."

And so she told him from the beginning and explained how her friendship with Lostwithiel had finally turned to love. "Well," said Thorin, his brow furrowed, "I honestly can't see what the attraction is."

Rose was annoyed. "You've never liked him very much, have you? Wasn't there one time when you beat him up? When he was helping you fortify the forge? What a nasty thing to do. Poor Lostwithiel."

Thorin didn't know whether to be amused or annoyed. In the end, amusement won the day. "Now that's unfair," he said. "We've had our ups and downs but he's definitely improved over the years. I'd say he was a friend...And that's a very weird thing – falling in love with your father's friend. Couldn't you find one more your age?"

"Well, there's only Darri," she said, referring to a long-term dwarven friend from the settlement. He's really nice but I can't imagine myself marrying him."

And Thorin had to admit to himself that he couldn't either.

He tried to imagine Rose with Lostwithiel and although his mind shied away from many of the images, he had to say that they would make a good-looking couple, particularly in four or five years' time when Rose was a bit older. They got on well together and laughed a lot together. Did he want Lostwithiel as part of his family? Probably not. But would he want ANYONE to marry his daughters and be part of his family? No! He just knew that absolutely no-one would ever be good enough for them. He grinned and, just for a moment, Thorin could laugh at himself.

He gave her a hug again. "What's this elven woman's name, then?" he asked.

"Challis," she said.

"Well, I've got to go down to the Grey Havens tomorrow for a few days," he told her. "I'll check her out, if you like; watch them together, if possible. See if I think that he's really in love with her and, more importantly, if she's in love with him."

"Thank you," Rose said, and she returned the hug.

.o00o.

Early the following morning, Thorin pulled on his leather gloves and mounted his horse. Tauriel stood at its head and gave him a look. "Don't get into too much trouble," she said.

"Trouble?" he asked. "What can you possibly be talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," she said. "No more fights with Lostwithiel."

He reached down and ran a finger along her cheek with his gloved hand. "I want you to trust me," he said. "I have a plan." And he grinned.

"You've got a plan? Oh, please, not a plan." And she cast up her eyes.

.o00o.

PT III

Down at the Grey Havens, Thorin bustled about getting himself invited to a number of social events. He knew that Lostwithiel was in the town and so he thought it a distinct possibility that he would catch him together with Challis. He struck lucky the first night when he attended an elegant and crowded soiree. First of all he bumped into Lithin and they stood gossiping for five minutes. And then he asked if Lostwithiel were there and was told he would be along later.

"And what about this Challis?" he asked casually. "You know, the elf that might be joining your comrades up at the outpost?"

"She's there, talking to that group over in the corner," volunteered Lithin and he pointed.

She was standing with her back to him and, for one startling moment, he thought it was Tauriel. Her hair was a similar colour and length and she was the same height. But, then she turned to speak to a neighbour and he thought smugly that, no, she wasn't nearly as beautiful as his wife. But the similarity was there and he wondered if this was one of the reasons for Lostwithiel's attraction to her and, as he often did, he felt a vague desire to punch the elegant elf lord on his nose. Just as well he hadn't turned up yet, he thought.

"She's lovely, isn't she?" Lithin said with a sigh.

Thorin immediately went on the alert. "If she's so lovely, why aren't you over there making your mark with the rest of them?" he asked.

Lithin blushed. "Oh, she wouldn't notice me," said the shy elf lord. "There's nothing special about me."

Thorin tried to take an unbiased look at Lithin. Because of his shy manner and his modesty, it was easy to pass him by. But, if he would only hold himself up straight in a social gathering like he did when he was on patrol and if he could just learn to adopt a more confident approach to life, then he was probably the best-looking of all Tauriel's elven troop. He was definitely the nicest.

"I'd be interested in meeting her," he said to Lithin. "I'd like to chat to her about my training sessions up at the outpost."

The elf took him across the room and made the formal introductions.

Now, in the past eleven years, ever since his epic adventure with Bilbo, Thorin had gradually worked out what his strengths and his weaknesses were. His greatest strength was as a leader of men. He realised that he had a certain magnetism. Why else would twelve dwarves follow him on a reckless and foolhardy journey over the Misty Mountains to face an invincible dragon? Why else would not only dwarves but also elves and men rally to his side at his call during the Battle of the Five Armies? Thorin realised that he had a power in his voice and his demeanour that called men to him.

Not only that, but he had finally realised, after they had moved temporarily to the Grey Havens when the children were young that, if he were willing to exert these powers, he also had the same effect on women. This was an amazing revelation to him, a dwarf who had been a virgin for most of his life, one who had had little contact with the fair sex and who was still astonished that a beautiful elf had chosen him above all others. He was uncomfortable with the effect he seemed to have but, if it was all in a good cause, then he would use it.

"Excuse me, Challis," said Lithin. "I'd like you to meet Thorin Oakenshield, our captain's husband and our weapons' trainer."

Thorin was ready for the disgusted/surprised/dismissive look that came into her eyes as she turned around. Par for the course, he thought. But he bowed and gave her his most delightful smile, showing his beautiful white teeth. He smouldered with a special intense look up through his dark eyelashes, the one he often gave to Tauriel. Sorry, Tauriel, he thought.

Challis found herself going from uncomfortable surprise to thinking that this dwarf was exceptionally handsome and had the most amazing blue eyes she had ever seen. How fascinating, she thought.

Thorin put on his deepest, most thrilling voice. "It's my pleasure to meet someone who is likely to be a new member of our outpost and it will be an even greater pleasure to instruct you," he said.

Challis was mesmerised by his velvet, seductive tones and found herself gazing like an idiot at him.

Thorin took her firmly by the arm and steered her to a quiet corner. "Perhaps we could have a chat about the outpost and how you intend to offer your services," he said and he bowed her into a seat, sitting very close to her (doing a Kagris, he thought) and still holding her with his hypnotic gaze. Challis felt as if she were having trouble breathing.

They sat there for a long time, discussing the outpost and then moved on to the Battle of the Five Armies. None of the elves from Lothlorien had been present and she was fascinated to hear all the details. Thorin managed to give her a vivid description of the part he had played without sounding boastful and, by the time he had finished, the whole battle, with Thorin as the heroic leader, was playing out in her mind's eye.

"That sounds wonderful," she said. "If only I had been there!" And she leaned towards him and fluttered her eyelashes.

Good, thought Thorin. She's flirting with me.

At that moment, Lostwithiel homed in on them, swept across the room and plonked himself down between them. Challis looked very annoyed.

"Ah," said Lostwithiel, "I see you've met our captain's husband." And he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it gracefully.

"Yes," she said quite sharply, "and you've managed to interrupt a very interesting conversation."

Lostwithiel looked quite taken aback by her tone and fell quiet whilst she and Thorin continued their intimate chat which quite excluded him. Thorin was smiling to himself. Poor Lostwithiel! He looked quite crestfallen. Good, he thought.

The evening came to an end and Lostwithiel was feeling sullen. Was Thorin not content with his lot? He already had Tauriel, so what was this interest in Challis? He maliciously wondered if he should let slip to Tauriel what her husband had been up to this evening. But Thorin was finally leaving and, at last, he had Challis all to himself.

"He was wonderful!" breathed Challis. "You must feel so lucky to have someone like that working along wih you." And she watched Thorin swagger down the room until he had disappeared from view.

"He's got a very beautiful wife!" snapped Lostwithiel. And then he bit his tongue. This was no way to win her heart and he switched back into smooth elf lord mode, making sure that she knew how he had saved Thorin's life during the orc raid on his forge and how he had delivered his daughter. This second piece of information usually really impressed the ladies. Challis' eyes glowed. But she seemed more interested in how Thorin had almost singlehandedly fought off 40 orcs and in the radiant beauty of the chidren he had produced than hearing about Lostwithiel's dealings in these matters. By the time he parted from her, Thorin was definitely not Lostwithiel's favourite person.

Thorin, meanwhile, whistled as he walked back to his rented house by the estuary. Well, Lostwithiel might think that he was in love with Challis but, from the way she had flirted with him this evening – and in front of the elf too – she definitely wasn't in love with Lostwithiel.

.o00o.

PT IV

"Where is everybody?" asked Thorin when he got back home the following afternoon.

"Well, Rose is in the forge," said Tauriel, "and Poppy is having a nap and Arion is out riding Warg."

"Good," said Thorin, and spent the next five minutes giving her a thorough kissing just to show how much he had missed her.

"And did your trip meet with success?" she asked when she was allowed to draw breath.

"Yes, I think it did," he said with a satisfied grin. "I have established that Challis is not in love with Lostwithiel which will doubtless cheer up Rose just a little bit. But, he's working on her. Who knows if she won't change her mind in a few weeks' time. I need to press on with my plan."

"What's she like?" asked Tauriel.

"Oh, a bit like you," he said, nuzzling her neck and heading for that fascinating ear-lobe.

"Really?" she said, looking pleased. "In what way?"

"Oh, same colour hair, same figure...The only difference is that she's younger, nearer my age," he grinned. "Perhaps we'd be better suited."

She snorted indignantly and pushed him away. "Well, no more kisses for you today," she said, "if you'd prefer them from Challis."

"Oh, I'd much, much rather have them from you," he said, pulling her back into his arms. "With old age comes experience." And he made for the ear-lobe again.

.o0o.

Rose was cheered a little by what Thorin had found out. "But, it's her birthday next week and when he gives her that bracelet, it's bound to soften her up."

"They're holding a party for her up at the outpost," Thorin said. "We're all invited."

Rose groaned. "Parties create an artificial situation – just right for people to fall in love. And I'll have to sit in a corner and watch them together," she said.

"Then you two will just have to help me with the next phase of my plan, won't you?" Thorin said.

Tauriel was going up to the outpost the next day for her weekly visit and Thorin gave her a mysterious parcel to hand over to Lithin. The silver bracelet was completed and after they had all admired it because it really was quite beautiful – "You tried too hard there," said Thorin – this was also given to Tauriel to take to the outpost as well.

"I want that bracelet, Rosie," said Poppy.

"Well, you can't have it because it's not for you," snapped Rose.

"But," said Tauriel as she saw her daughter's lip quiver, "perhaps Rose can make you one all for yourself."

Thorin saw the look of disapproval that Arion and Rose gave Tauriel and knew that they were right. He sighed. "No," he said, "you're not old enough yet for silver bracelets. You can't have everything you want."

Poppy started to grizzle, a bit taken aback that her father had denied her. Looks flashed back and forth across the room and they all ignored her. In the end, she shut up. We've got a lot of ground to make up there, thought Thorin, and it's our own fault.

"Don't forget to write that poetry," Thorin said.

"No," Tauriel replied. "I'll do it now."

Arion and Rose raised their eyebrows in curiosity and Thorin winked.

.o00o.

The day of the birthday party came and the family set out. Thorin rode his horse, Rose her pony, Arion was on Warg and Tauriel drove the trap with Poppy on the seat beside her while Dog came trotting behind. The back of the trap was absolutely filled with cakes and also bunches of flowers from the garden that Thorin had dug for Tauriel when they had got back from their exile six years earlier. This was their present to Challis and a contribution to the birthday fun.

When they arrived, the troop came out to greet them, Challis among them. She was wide-eyed when she saw Warg and Arion introduced the creature to her. Warg was now fully-grown and was larger than Arion's pony, Blue. In many ways, he was beautiful, covered in white fur as he was. But his size and ferocity were terrifying.

Arion did his bit. "Most of the troop up here are a bit wary of Warg, but Lithin gets on well with him and isn't afraid. He's the only one who has ridden him apart from myself."

She looked amazed. "Lithin?" she said.

"Yes," he replied. "Lithin looks quiet but he's really brave once you get to know him." And Arion sauntered off to stable Warg, leaving Challis with some interesting thoughts.

Everyone was wearing smart clothing and Rose was surprised at how pretty damn good Lithin was looking. His outfit was made of a material that had a silvery sheen and really made him stand out from the crowd. For a change, he was holding himself up well. "I had a talk to him about posture the other day," said Tauriel, "and what he was going to wear today. He's had that outfit for some time but has always been too shy to wear it because it's so distinctive."

"He looks really handsome," said Rose.

"What I want to know," said Thorin, "is why you can't fall in love with Lithin? He's so much nicer than Lostwithiel."

"Well," said Rose, "Lostwithiel suits me, in the same way that you suited Tauriel and she didn't fall for Thranduil – even though," she added with a dig, "Thranduil was obviously the sensible one to go for."

"I'll go along with that," grinned Thorin. "But, before we set this plan in motion and take an irrevocable step, are you sure it's Lostwithiel and not Lithin you want?"

"Absolutely sure," said Rose firmly. "I'm a girl who knows her own mind."

"Right," said Thorin as he looked around his family. "Forward, the Oakenshields!"

.o00o.

When Challis saw Tauriel, she felt quite despondent. She wasn't sure what she had been hoping but she had dreamt about Thorin every night for the past week. Now the beautiful Tauriel completely put the lid on her fantasy. She sighed. None of the other elves at the outpost seemed to measure up to him. She rather liked Lostwithiel and he had certainly been very attentive since her arrival in Ered Luin. And now that Arion had mentioned his courage, she was beginning to see Lithin in a new light. Hmmm, she thought.

"So, you've definitely decided to join us?" asked Tauriel.

"If you'll have me," she smiled.

"And how do you think you'll cope with only the company of men all week?" Tauriel continued.

"Well, it could be fun," grinned Challis. "They're a fine-looking bunch, aren't they?"

"I tend to think that now, but you should have seen them when they first arrived," said their captain.

Challis giggled. "But now they're fighting fit, aren't they? And so handsome."

"Yes," said Tauriel casually. "And Lithin looks particularly fine tonight in that beautiful outfit. And he's such a lovely person too. I'm surprised that no elf lady has made off with him yet." And, with that carefully planted thought, she drifted away.

They all enjoyed the food and then it was time for present giving. Mostly, she was given items of jewellery, and so Lostwithiel's bracelet didn't quite stand out as much as he had hoped. But, Rose's work was very beautiful and Challis admired it for some time before, finally, putting it on her wrist. That was a good sign, thought Lostwithiel.

Last came Lithin's present, the mysterious long package that the children had seen their mother take up to the outpost. "My suggestion," Tauriel whispered to them. Inside was a beautifully crafted dwarven bow with mystic runes carved on it and with its ends tipped with silver. It was accompanied by a quiver of arrows. "Your father was making it for you," Tauriel said to Rose, "but he was pretty confident you wouldn't mind."

Challis looked vaguely confused.

"Oh, I've got one of those!" exclaimed Arion. "They're really good."

"Yes, I've got one too," said Rose. "Come outside and try it out."

So, off they went to the butts and had a practice. By the time Challis and the children came back an hour later, her eyes were glowing with excitement. "Thank you so much, Lithin," she said. "What an unusual gift! It's wonderful and so thoughtful!" Lithin smiled modestly.

Challis had enjoyed the company of Arion and Rose and now Rose chatted with her further.

"You're so pretty," said Rose, "I'm sure that all the men of this troop will be fighting over you."

Challis blushed. "Oh, don't exaggerate, Rose," she said modestly.

"I'm not exaggerating," Rose said. "I know of at least one of them who is already head over heels in love with you."

"Oh, tell me," said the elf and her face lit up with excitement.

"Well, I won't tell you, I'll show you," said Rose mysteriously. "It's something I came across the last time I was up here." And she led her out of the farmhouse and into the neighbouring woods.

Meanwhile, Thorin was filling Lithin in on the story so far. "It's going very well," he said. "She'll be desperately in love with you before the day's out."

"You really think so?" asked Lithin in wonder.

"Oh, yes," said Thorin airily. "She's already told Tauriel that she thinks you're the handsomest elf in the room. And didn't you see the way she looked at you after you gave her that present?"

"No?" said Lithin.

"Well, if that look wasn't the first signs of passion then I don't know anything about love."

They all knew that what Thorin didn't know about love was not worth knowing – or so the rumour went. Lithin stood up taller.

"That's the spirit," said Thorin. "Have you got that poem?"

"Yes," said Lithin and he patted his pocket.

Down in the woods, Rose was showing Challis a carving on a tree. Lithin loves Challis, it said. And it was set within a heart and surrounded by beautifully carved birds and flowers. He had done a good job, thought Rose, and wondered with a grin if Lostwithiel would do anything so romantic for her. Probably not.

"Why," said Challis, "that's quite lovely."

"He's been pining away for love of you ever since he saw you a month ago," Rose said.

"Oh, the poor lad," said the tender-hearted Challis and her eyes gleamed with sympathetic tears.

As they approached the farmhouse, they saw Lithin standing outside and, seeing them, he came over. Rose quietly slipped away. Lithin felt a confidence he had never known before. Thorin had seen the beginnings of love in Challis' eyes and he was determined not to miss his chance. He stared into the elf's grey eyes, trying to find what Thorin had noticed. Challis stared back, searching for all that love that she had seen carved on the tree.

"I have another birthday present for you," he said, "but it was one I wanted to give you in private." And he handed over a rolled sheet of parchment tied with a pretty ribbon. She unrolled it and her eyes widened. It was a love poem, addressed to her and beautifully presented, written in a rolling script and decorated with exquisite drawings all around the edges.

She read it slowly, savouring its content and meaning. "That was absolutely lovely," she breathed at last. She looked up at him and her lips trembled. And Lithin took her face in his hands and kissed her.

.o00o.

Later, as the evening came, Rose found Lostwithiel outside, sitting with his back against the farmhouse wall and looking quite miserable. She sat down next to him. "She doesn't love me," he said. "She's in love with Lithin."

"How do you know that?" she asked.

"I saw him kiss her," he said.

"Ah," said Rose. And she put her arm about his shoulder. "Someone will love you in the end," she said.

"Well," I hope it's someone as beautiful and as kind as you, Rose," he said.

Just wait for me, she thought. Just a few more years. And the wall felt warm and comforting against her back.

.o00o.

They got back down from the farmhouse quite late, just as the last light of a summer's twilight was disappearing. Arion had run out of steam and Poppy was already asleep so their parents tucked them into bed. Rose was tired but happy. She hugged Thorin. "What a plan!" she grinned. "You've given me a chance. Thank you so much!" And she kissed him.

"Off to bed with you!" he said but he was feeling very pleased with himself.

Tauriel took Thorin's hand and led him to their bedroom. "My," she said. "I never knew I was married to such a clever, conniving husband. Do you think that Rose will now live happily ever after?"

"Well," he said, undoing all the buttons on her dress, "I think she's in with a chance now." And he slipped off her dress and picked her up in his arms. "But, the interesting thing is," he continued, laying her down on the bed and undoing his own buttons, "is that I reckon that Lithin and Challis have a chance of living happily ever after too."

And then he snuggled down on the bed with her. "What do you think our chances are?" he said as he found her elusive ear-lobe again.

"Chances of what?" she murmured as she stroked his plaits and kissed his throat.

"Our chances of living happily ever after," he grunted as he began to slide on top of her.

"Well, I think we've made a good start, don't you?" she smiled, and she seized his plaits and pulled him down towards her lips and kissed him tenderly.

.o00o.


	18. Chapter 18 Thorin and the Suitors

With this episode, we take another step forward in Rose's love life. Is Lostwithiel still available? Is Rose still waiting for him? Has another suitor (or more) entered the scene? And will Thorin be able to cope? The answers to this and more can be found in the following story. Enjoy the ride, LOL!

.o00o.

THORIN AND THE SUITORS

PT I

Tauriel was in the kitchen, Poppy was mooching around feeling bored because no-one was taking any notice of her and Arion was playing with his large set of wooden soldiers. Well, not playing, exactly. The figures were divided into elves and orcs and he was working out complex military tactics, practising for the time when he would become a soldier himself up at his mother's outpost.

"Can I play with you?" asked Poppy.

"I'm not playing," he answered brusquely.

"Well, can I play with just these?" she said, and, without waiting for a reply, she picked up a handful of elves, totally messing up several carefully-placed ranks.

"Now look what you've done!" he snapped and he grabbed them back from her and gave her a slight push away from his battle-field. She was such a nuisance. Poppy might be six, but she was a spoiled brat!

Poppy stood there for a moment, twisting one of her golden curls around a finger. Then she stood in the middle of the room and started crying her eyes out. Arion looked startled, but she backed away from him and ran into the kitchen, clutching Tauriel by the skirt. Tauriel looked concerned and scooped her up in her arms: "What's wrong, precious?" she said.

Poppy looked pathetic and tear-stained. "It's Arion! He snatched my toys from me and pushed me and hurt me," she wailed. And she put her little arms about her mother's neck, burying her pretty face in her neck.

Arion ran in after her – he knew what his sister was like. "No, I did not!" he protested. "She stole my toys and I was only getting them back!"

Tauriel sighed. She and Thorin had somehow taken a wrong turn with Poppy. She was badly spoiled and now it was proving difficult to put wrong decisions right. She set Poppy down, even though the child was still sobbing and clinging to her skirt. "Go to your room, sweetheart, and play with your dolls. I want to talk to your brother." Poppy gave a big sniff and, casting Arion a pleased look, went off to her room.

"It's not fair!" cried Arion. "It's always me who's wrong and who gets punished."

"No," said his mother, "you're not in trouble but I do want to talk to you." And she led him back into the sitting-room and sat down with him. "Where to begin?" she murmured. "Do you remember when you were a toddler and Rose came?"

Yes, he nodded. It was his earliest memory.

"Well, perhaps you don't remember what it was like before, but your father was usually working in the forge and I was working in the house and you were quite a lonely little boy, with no-one else to play with."

"But, then, Rose came," he grinned.

"Yes, and then Rose came and she's been a devoted playmate ever since – your friend, your sister, even a second mother."

"She saved me from the pirates," he said.

"She did indeed," confirmed Tauriel, "and you've never had a boring or lonely moment since."

Arion looked at his mother and wondered where she was going with this.

"And then Poppy was born and you helped and you were wonderful." She smiled and stroked his dark curls. "We never thought we'd have any more children after you."

"Yes, I know," said Arion grumpily, staring down at the floor. "She's special and you and father make that pretty clear."

"Oh, Arion," said Tauriel, and she put her arm around his shoulder. "All of you are special. You're special because you were the first; Rose is special because she came so unexpectedly into our lives and Poppy is special because she's likely to be our last. And I'm so sorry if we've made you feel otherwise." Arion looked slightly mollified.

"But," continued his mother, "the problem with being the first is that you're often asked to take some responsibility and to make allowances for younger siblings; and the problem for Rose being in the middle, is that she sometimes must feel neither one thing nor the other; and the problem with being the youngest is that you're often left out of things. And then you cause trouble to get attention."

Arion pulled a face. "Yes, I understand that, but Poppy is so boring to play with. She really is so girly."

"And I can imagine that Rose often found you boring, too, but she persevered nonetheless," retorted his mother.

Arion raised an eyebrow at the thought that he was ever boring.

"Well," suggested Tauriel, "if you can't bear to play with her, perhaps she can be useful to you." Arion looked doubtful. "Why don't you take her out to the stables and get her to help you muck out. And perhaps she can do some grooming too. She's always been a favourite with Warg." This last annoyed Arion a little but it was true. The creature had seen her being born – it had SMELLED her being born and her scent had created a weird sort of affection in him. He had recognised her baby status right from the off and he seemed to feel the urge to guard and protect. The little girl was perfectly safe with the huge, terrifying beast.

"I'm sure that Warg would let Poppy ride him. Perhaps you could start giving her riding lessons. She'd enjoy that - and I think you'd enjoy it too. She'd really love you for it."

Arion considered what she said and then nodded. "All right, I'll give it a try," he said. "Perhaps I have been a bit mean with her. But, in return, I want you and father to promise me one thing."

"What's that?" smiled Tauriel.

"PLEASE try really hard not to call her 'precious' or 'sweetheart' or 'princess'!"

.o00o.

As Arion strode out to the stables with Poppy trotting happily behind him, the children passed their father coming from the forge. Thorin entered the house just as Tauriel was about to return to the kitchen. He pulled off his leather apron and then tugged off his singlet, wiping his face and chest with it before plonking himself down at the table. "It's not time for food yet," said Tauriel in surprise.

"I know it's not," he said, "but it was time to get out of that forge and away from all of them before they drove me mad."

Tauriel laughed and came over and sat on his lap. She ran her hand over his chest and then down his strong arms, feeling the flex of his biceps. "You should walk around like this more often," she whispered. And she kissed him gently on the lips.

"Wouldn't I be too much of a distraction?" he said huskily.

"A distraction from housework would be more than welcome," she grinned, "but perhaps not while we've got a houseful of people."

Thorin sighed. "You should see what's going on in that forge at the moment," he said.

Rose was out there, working on some jewellery commissions. Darri, her long-time dwarf friend, was also out there, working away on the anvil. He was staying with them for a few weeks, not only to see Rose but also to benefit from some expert tuition in smithing from Thorin. And, also out there was Lostwithiel. He was very friendly with Thorin and his captain, Tauriel, but, over the years, Rose had become more and more important to him. She was 17 now and absolutely beautiful. However, not only was she beautiful, but her magnetic personality seemed to attract everyone who came into contact with her.

Lostwithiel would laugh and call her bossy, but she was slowly becoming a significant person in his life and, whenever he visited, ostensibly to have a chat with his captain or a drink with Thorin, he would find himself drifting out to the forge more and more so that he could have a chat with Rose instead. "She's a good friend," he would say to the elves up at the outpost who were also very fond of her, and he didn't seem to realise that she was becoming more than a friend to him.

Darri, on the other hand, had begun to realise that he had thought about her as more than a friend for some time now. He was a handsome lad – a bit on the short side but, like Thorin, he was well set up. Rose always thought he was very nice to look at especially when working in the forge. He had long, brown hair but no beard yet which bothered him. "But your stubble is coming along nicely," Rose would laugh.

Rose enjoyed being with both of them – although perhaps not at the same time. Her feelings for Lostwithiel were the same as they had been a year ago; but, she had noticed that she seemed to be getting fonder of Darri.

Lostwithiel was quite beautiful in that special elven way and she always felt alive when she was with him. He was witty and entertaining and kept her on her toes; she thoroughly enjoyed the banter that always seemed to dance between them. And she wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by those perfect lips.

On the other hand, in Darri's company, she always felt completely relaxed. They had the same sense of humour and had the same passion for the forge. She wondered if he was just a friend but, at the same time, she also wondered what it would feel like to be held in those powerful arms.

.o00o.

PT II

"So, what's going on in the forge, then?" asked Tauriel, as she sat on Thorin's lap and kissed his nose.

"Well, there's a war going on. They're both competing for Rose's attention." Thorin looked revolted. "Rose shouldn't be encouraging them. She near enough told me she was a one-elf woman and that Lostwithiel was that elf."

Tauriel laughed. "She's been waiting so long for him that it looks as though she's given Darri the opportunity to slip into her affections."

"Well, you know I think that Lostwithiel is a fool," snorted Thorin, "even if I do like him – a bit. And even if I did do my best to head off at the pass a potential rival love-interest and earned Rose's undying gratitude. But, I must admit that, given the choice of an elf or a dwarf for a son-in-law, I'd take the dwarf any day."

"Well, of course you would. You dwarves stick together." And she gave his plaits a sharp tug.

"Ow," said Thorin. "Well, I'd like to hear you say you'd take Darri over Lostwithiel."

"If I thought him the best candidate then you WOULD hear me say that. But, Lostwithiel is her first love and I think he'll be her last love. He's a fine soldier and he saved your life."

"And he's very, very old," said Thorin.

"Well," said Tauriel indignantly, "so am I!"

"Ah, yes, my love," murmured Thorin, nuzzling her neck, "but you've worn so well. No-one would ever guess." And he placed his lips on hers before she could offer a retort, thinking that all he wanted for Rose was a love like that which existed between him and Tauriel. And he wondered if either Lostwithiel or Darri could offer her that.

Five minutes later, Tauriel rested her head on his shoulder and sighed. "Darri's a lovely lad but he just doesn't seem to have the passion and Lostwithiel is still teetering on the edge. I don't believe he feels any more than friendship for Rose at the moment."

"Well, I think you should have been out in that forge just now," laughed Thorin, "and you wouldn't be saying that. I think it's just hit him between the eyes. He's been edging Darri out of every conversation and is leaning over her, examining her work, with his arm around her shoulder."

"Oh dear," said Tauriel, sympathising with the young dwarf. "And what's Darri doing about it?"

"Well, every time Lostwithiel tries to say something witty and charming, he hammers away on his anvil like mad and blocks out all conversation. It was at that point I gave up and made my exit."

"It must be confusing for Rose to be suddenly besieged," said Tauriel thoughtfully. "Perhaps she needs to get away so that she has some time to think. She needs to have her thoughts in order in case they both suddenly propose."

"I've got to go down to the Grey Havens tomorrow for a few days," suggested Thorin. "The shipping magnate, Barnaby Waller, wants me to make a whole load of things for him. He's asked me to stay in his home while we talk over the designs. I could take Rose with me as my assistant."

"Good idea," said Tauriel. "I think that suggestion deserves an extra special kiss."

"I thought all your kisses were special," murmured Thorin against her lips. "What have I been missing?"

.o00o.

Outside in the stable, Poppy and Arion were having a surprisingly good time together. He had shown her how to muck out the two ponies and had expected her to say that it was not the sort of yucky thing that princesses tended to do. He had almost wished that she would say that so that he could take her back inside and report back to Tauriel that he had done his best but that Poppy had been uncooperative. Instead, she set to with a will and, between them, they soon had the place clean and tidy. She enjoyed putting out the fresh straw and filling their mangers with oats and hay and making sure that they had plenty of water. Her pretty dress was filthy but she didn't seem to notice and she soldiered on, standing on a box to help curry Blue and Little Beorn and plaiting their manes and tails.

"Great job!" said Arion and she beamed all over her little face.

Then Arion made a generous offer that he had been thinking about for some time. "You know," he said in an off-hand manner, "I never ride Blue any more because I'm always on Warg. Rose has to exercise both of the ponies. How would you like it if I gave Blue to you and taught you to ride?"

Rose's mouth dropped open. Then she flung her arms around his waist and wouldn't stop thanking him. Arion felt pleased but embarrassed and pushed her gently away. "That's all right then. And perhaps you'd like to learn to ride Warg too," he added. This produced more hugs and yelps of delight and Arion considered the pleasures to be got out of loving and giving.

Then they went next door and cleaned both Warg and his stable. And then Arion showed Poppy how to climb up on Warg's back using his fur and how to hold on tight with her hands and her knees in the riding position. Warg-riders rode bare-back and Poppy seemed to get the hang of it straight away. And then he led her several times around the yard to give her the feel of things. Rose, Darri and Lostwithiel came out from the forge to watch and they all praised him for his patience. Arion decided that having a bratty little sister wasn't so bad after all.

.o00o.

They all assembled in the Hall for lunch and Tauriel had the opportunity to study the elf, the dwarf and her daughter together. Thorin was right. They were vying for her attention and Rose was not enjoying it. She nodded to Thorin and he made his suggestion to Rose of a trip to the Grey Havens the next day. She looked very pleased and said she could finish off her own commissions that afternoon and take them with her. Darri looked annoyed because it meant he would have to go without her for a few days and Lostwithiel looked smug because he had to return to the outpost that evening and he wasn't happy at the thought of leaving Rose and Darri together.

Poppy gabbled away about how she had helped Arion and about her ride on Warg and the coming treat of learning to ride Blue and Arion smiled modestly as everyone told him what a wonderful brother he was.

Rose noticed that neither Tauriel nor Thorin called Poppy 'precious', or 'sweetheart' or 'princess' even once and she wondered why. But it was a great improvement.

.o00o.

In bed that night, Tauriel told Thorin to talk to Rose about her feelings on the ride into town and she would have a chat with Darri. Tomorrow evening, when she did her stint up at the outpost, she would also have a talk with Lostwithiel. Once everyone's cards were on the table then, perhaps, if it came to a proposal, Rose could make a sensible and informed choice.

"Were all the cards on the table when you picked me?" asked Thorin. "Did you make a sensible and informed choice?" And he pulled her to him and looked into her eyes.

"No," she smiled, running her hands down his plaits and kissing the tip of his nose, "I knew nothing except that I loved you."

"Well, there you go," said Thorin. "So, why do we have to dig out all this information when no information was good enough for us?"

"Because she's our daughter," Tauriel said, "and you either have to be very clever or very lucky to make the right choice."

"Well, I was very clever and very lucky to choose you," said Thorin and he turned off the lamp.

.o00o.

PT III

Thorin and Rose set off at a leisurely pace the next morning. Rose chattered easily with Thorin about the commissions she had just finished, about the new commissions they hoped to get and about Tauriel, Arion and Poppy.

Finally, Thorin said casually, "Did you have a good time with Darri and Lostwithiel yesterday?"

She paused before she said, "No, actually."

Thorin feigned surprise: "Oh, really! Why is that? I thought you were the greatest of friends with both of them."

"Well, I am," she said hesitantly, "but, but..." She stopped again, then looked at him as he rode beside her. "Do you think it sounds really arrogant of me if I say I think they're both in love with me?...And I feel really uncomfortable about it."

"No, you're not being arrogant, Rose," he replied, "because I think it's true."

She looked surprised and then laughed. "It's impossible to keep anything from you, isn't it?"

"Or your mother," he granted. "I noticed the way they were carrying on in the forge yesterday and I didn't think you were very happy about it."

"Well, it's so silly, isn't it?" she grinned. "Fancy fighting over me."

"Yes, just fancy," Thorin grinned back. "Fancy falling in love with and then fighting over the most beautiful girl for miles around! They must be mad."

And Rose leaned over and poked him hard in the ribs. "Get on with you! You're such a tease," she said and they had a good laugh. Then they became serious again.

"So, Rose," said Thorin, "you've got what you wished for and Lostwithiel is now sighing over you, it would appear, in the same way as you sighed over him. And the problem is...?"

Another long pause. "Well, there are lots of problems," she finally replied. "It's a bit upsetting to have two people in love with me because I don't want to hurt either of them. Also, I don't know how I feel about Darri any more. Am I in love with him too? If I am in love with both of them, which one do I prefer if I have to make a choice? And, if I don't know which I prefer, does that mean, actually, that I'm in love with neither of them?"

"Hmmm," said Thorin. "very sensible questions and not easily answered. That's why I thought that a few days away from it all would help you get things sorted in your mind."

"So, you don't want me along with you as your assistant?" She sounded very disappointed.

"Of course I do," he laughed, "but I thought we might kill two birds with one stone."

Rose was riding side saddle because she had on a lovely dress designed to impress their new client. It was a crisp day in winter; the sky was very blue and they were both wearing their furs. Thorin still had plenty of gold left over from the dragon's hoard and they were both earning good money from their commissions. But Thorin's acquisitive nature tended to encourage him to build up his gold in the town vaults rather than spend it and the family had gently encouraged him to go on a bit of a spree in the past few months. They had all come to the Grey Havens and ordered themselves fine clothing for the special events that seemed to occur more frequently in their lives and, today, they entered the town looking very splendid indeed. Thorin was wearing his favourite blue velvet with a fur-lined coat and Rose looked elegant and quite severe in black velvet which was modified by a deep and luxurious blue fox collar. When they arrived at Barnaby Waller's mansion, Thorin dismounted and helped his daughter from her horse and soon stable-boys came running to take away their mounts.

Thorin justified the expense of the clothes to himself by concluding that, if you presented yourself to a customer dressed in rich clothing, then they would take you seriously and be prepared to pay your prices.

As they trod up the flight of stone steps, the wealthy merchant came out to meet them. He fussed around them, leading them into a luxuriously appointed room and plying them with refreshments and wine. Servants came to remove their furs and they were invited to take the most comfortable seats by the roaring log fire.

Although he was impressed by their appearance, Waller was treating them like guests because he could see that a substantial profit could be made from the work of these smiths. It was not so much that he wanted objects of beauty for himself but he owned a whole fleet of trading ships and knew where he could sell their pieces in distant markets for much higher prices than could be achieved in Ered Luin. He wanted to go into business with Thorin and so the two sat down at the table with their heads together.

Rose was tired and bored and wandered around the room studying all the beautiful furniture and ornaments and wondering if this is what she wanted for herself. When Barnaby's son, Roger, came into the room, his first sight of Rose was of her standing by the large marble fireplace, staring in contemplation into the flames, the candle-light flickering on her lovely face and her beautiful black hair falling in a mass of curls down to her waist. He stood motionless on the threshold for a good moment, quite stunned by the graceful and delightful picture presented to him and then he cried in an excited voice, "Rose!"

She raised her head at her name and gazed wide-eyed at the handsome, dark-haired youth who was walking eagerly towards her across the room. "Roger!" she exclaimed, holding out her hands and grasping his in her own.

.o00o.

While Thorin and Rose were riding off to the Grey Havens, Tauriel was chatting with Darri. He was very busy working on some farm implements for Thorin in his absence and so she had taken him some bread and cheese and a mug of beer into the forge. He grinned amiably at her and bit off a chunk of bread with strong, even teeth.

"No, sit down," she said, "and take a small break." They sat together at the workbench and Tauriel thought what a nice lad he was. Darri was 40 but, by dwarf count, he was still a young man – and looked it, too. He had a fresh, open face and, like most dwarves, a heavy, muscular build. He was always smiling and always good-natured, someone whom it was fun to be with. He was hard-working too and came from a decent, well-thought-of family. Like Dis, his mother had been very supportive of Tauriel when she had first moved into the area and he and Rose had got along brilliantly together from the word go.

If Rose chose Darri, she was sure that he would look after her devotedly for the rest of their lives together; so why did she hesitate, thought Tauriel? Was it because she wanted for her daughter the same depth of passion that she had experienced with Thorin and she just had a feeling that he would not supply it? Or was it because he was a dwarf? Now, that was an odd thing to think since she had married a dwarf herself, but her elven nature still felt that perhaps an elf-lord might be a better catch for Rose or even a man, one of her own kind, where there were no worries about different rates of aging and immortality.

Tauriel was blunt about it: "You're in love with Rose, aren't you, Darri? So I suppose I'd better ask you what your intentions are." And she laughed.

Darri looked up sharply from his food. "I might have known that you would have guessed, Tauriel," he said with a smile. "Trust a mother." He paused for a moment. "Yes, I am and have been for some time. We became friends the moment we first met. I've always thought that there was no-one like her. My feelings of friendship gradually turned to love some time ago as we got older and I cannot imagine myself married to anyone else."

"And what would your mother say?" asked Tauriel. "Wouldn't she want you to marry one of your own kind?"

"Well, perhaps she would, but there are so few dwarf women around that she'd be more than happy if I gave her grandchildren by whatever means," he laughed. "And she loves Rose, too. I think my mother is hoping that there is a betrothal in the wind."

"And you'd like to join our family?"

"It would be a great honour," he said seriously. "And the thought of working with Thorin and Rose in this forge brings tremendous pleasure to me." Yes, there was that, Tauriel thought. The three of them shared this intense common interest between them and it was a very important part of all of their lives.

"And do you intend to propose?" she asked.

"Well, I was going to wait a couple of years because she's still very young, but," and he pulled a face, "Lostwithiel has suddenly become a rival and I don't want to lose her just because I was a bit tardy with my offer."

Tauriel patted his hand in a kindly fashion. "We'll just have to see what Rose decides. She went away with Thorin just so that she could have a think about things. She knows how you both feel, so you need to let her sort it all out in her own time."

Darri nodded and went back to his anvil but, once Tauriel had left the forge, he began to worry about Rose thinking through things on her own with only Thorin to advise her. Which way would Thorin suggest that she jump? Would he think that a dwarven smith, like himself, was a good choice? Or would he feel that an elf lord was somehow a step up in the world? After all, he was very happily married to an elf himself. Darri ran his hand though his hair in frustration, then put down his tools and started to make plans to follow her to the Grey Havens.

.o00o.

PT IV

"Roger!" cried Rose, clasping his hands. He was a face from the past and she hadn't seen him for years.

The merchant looked up from the table where he was sitting in deep conference with Thorin. "Well," he said, "I wondered if you two would recognise each other, but I suppose that companions in crime have a special bond." And he laughed.

The penny suddenly dropped for Thorin. "You weren't one of Rose's little friends who went on a rampage through the market square all those years ago, were you?" he asked. Then turning to Waller, he said, "I'm surprised you've let us over your doorstep. The Oakenshield family didn't exactly make themselves popular that day."

"Well," said Waller, "I'm not one for letting a small incident like that get in the way of good business. But," he continued, waggling his finger at Rose and Roger who were still standing there clasping each other's hands, "just don't let it happen again." And he chuckled jovially.

The two young people went off to sit in a corner where they could renew their acquaintance. Roger gazed at Rose with awe. She was stunning, absolutely stunning. She looked so different from that skinny, large-eyed, short-haired urchin who had persuaded him to be wickedly naughty in the market square, and yet he would have known her anywhere. She had attracted him like a magnet then and he discovered that he was still attracted to her now.

Rose gazed at Roger in amazement too. She also would have recognised him anywhere. He had been one of her most ardent followers. A handsome child then, now he was tall and very goodlooking, clean-shaven like an elf and with long, floppy, dark hair. They looked into each other's eyes for a good five minutes, not feeling the need to talk. And then they burst into an excited chatter that completely absorbed them for the rest of the evening.

His father smiled indulgently at the young couple. He hadn't known that Thorin intended to bring his daughter but, now that he had, the two of them really seemed to be hitting it off together. And, the greedy merchant was not averse at all to his son hooking up with the daughter of an ex king, a daughter who was likely to inherit a share of a dragon's hoard. His mind leaped confidently ahead; for what girl could resist his dashing and handsome son? He thought about her work as a female smith. Well, that would have to go once they were married. They would move into their own apartments in his large mansion and she would learn to be the most beautiful and the most successful hostess in the town. Yes, that would get plenty of business rolling in. And Barnaby could scarcely stop himself from rubbing his hands with glee.

Thorin saw his daughter making an apparently delighted connection with Roger and didn't know what to think. A third suitor! This just made things even more complicated and he thought they had come to the Grey Havens to get away from things like this. Thorin felt confused and had a bit of a glower. If only Tauriel were here.

.o00o.

Tauriel, meanwhile, had ridden to the outpost late that afternoon. She was staying there until the following day but would return home before dark. After a meal with her men, she cornered Lostwithiel and was equally blunt with him.

"Tell me about your feelings for my daughter," she said.

She looked at the elf lord closely. He was so devilishly handsome – some people would say beautiful – and his looks had even improved since he became one of her men. What did he have in his favour? Well, he was an elf, of course, and, that was good as far as she was concerned. She didn't want to feel this bias but it was there all the same. And he was witty and charming and graceful. Rose seemed to light up in his company and their bantering always made Tauriel smile. And he had been very important in her family: he had saved Thorin's life, rescued Arion from the warg and had helped her give birth to Poppy. And so they owed him a lot. He was a good man to have around in a tight corner and she was sure he would try to be a good husband to Rose. But – and this was a mark against him – what would happen to his job up at the outpost once they were married? Would he feel obliged to give it up and then would he simply return to being a courtier with all the wafting and lethargy that that implied? And what damage would it do to their relationship? And, of course, there was the immortality issue that she and Thorin struggled with.

Lostwithiel had looked startled at her question but now he smiled and answered smoothly. "Ah, you noticed," he said. "Well, my feelings for Rose have been growing quietly now, I reckon, for a long time – I just didn't recognise them. Then, suddenly the other day, I looked at her and was nearly bowled over by the power of my emotions." Good, thought Tauriel. Passion. That's what Rose needs. "And, you know that we've been good friends ever since we first met and that we've faced a lot of things together." He gave her a charming, quirky smile and was obviously talking about Poppy's birth. "And she was so kind and supportive to me when Challis preferred Lithin. Perhaps I should have recognised my feelings for her then, but she seemed so young. Now, with Darri in love with her too..." And he trailed off.

"You don't want to miss your chance," Tauriel finished for him. He nodded. "Well," she said, "you know that she's gone to the Grey Havens with Thorin – part of that is so she can have a bit of a think about what she feels for both of you." And then she patted him on the hand and went about her duties.

Lostwithiel was upset. So, she was off with Thorin, having a think. Well, that might sink his chances completely. There had always been a certain edginess between him and the dwarf and surely Thorin would favour Darri as one of his own kind and a smith, to boot!? As soon as Tauriel left for home, Lostwithiel felt that he really ought to get down to the Grey Havens before Thorin influenced his daughter's mind.

.o00o.

The next day, Thorin and Rose were closeted with the merchant all morning discussing details of the jewellery he wanted them to make for him. Then they gave Rose the afternoon off and she went out for a ride with Roger. They had a wonderful time together and it seemed that neither of them could talk fast enough as they tried to fill each other in on the events of the past eight years. Finally they came home to eat and then discussed what to do that evening.

"Would you like to go to The Mithril Crown?" Roger asked. "It's a jolly place and loads of our old gang still meet up there. I'm sure they'll be pleased to see you."

This seemed like a good idea but Thorin felt vaguely unhappy and made her promise that she wouldn't return too late. "I'll wait up," he said.

She promised and off they set.

Meanwhile, some hours earlier, Darri had already set out from the forge, leaving the children in the care of Dis whilst Lostwithiel had, at roughly the same time, set out from the outpost.

.o00o.

The Mithril Crown was packed. Through the smoky gloom, lit only by a small number of candles, Roger could see a bunch of their old friends in the corner. "There they are," he said to Rose, grabbing her by the hand and dragging her over to meet them. They were all excited to see her again and several rounds of drinks were circulated in celebration of their reunion.

In the opposite corner, watching them over the top of his glass, sat a heavily cloaked figure. He seemed to be focussed on Rose but it was difficult to tell because all you could really see were two grey eyes staring steadily out from underneath a dark hood.

Things were getting livelier and the friends were getting wilder and more drunk. Roger was sitting there with his arm around Rose when, suddenly, he turned to speak to her. Their faces were very close and Roger, seeing her lips only fractionally away from his own, couldn't resist them and bent forward to lock her in his arms and give her a passionate kiss.

Lostwithiel and Darri had arrived at the merchant's house at precisely the same time as each other and now, armed with information from the servants as to Rose's whereabouts, they were striding silently through the streets of the Grey Havens, shoulder to shoulder, not speaking to each other and with their faces drawn into a tight, angry mask. Each thought the other an intruder on the private scene they meant to have with Rose.

They entered the Mithril Crown together, just as Roger was kissing Rose, and they let out a howl of rage. They strode across the room and, before the young man knew what was happening, they seized him by the collar and dragged him from his seat. They spun him around and both hit him at the same time. As his friends leaped up to enter the fray, the whole room seemed to erupt. Their action provided the regulars of the inn with a good excuse to hit someone and, within moments, the whole room was on its feet, engaged in the brawl.

When Rose saw Lostwithiel and Darri strike Roger, she shouted at them to stop but the mayhem drowned out her protests. And so, she dodged between the flying fists and boots in an attempt to reach their side. Lostwithiel, Darri and Roger were all in a circle ineffectually flailing at each other when Rose tried to part them. But the room was dark and noisy and heaving and they didn't hear her cries. Suddenly, Roger's fist, which was intended for Lostwithiel, connected with Rose instead. In the midst of the chaos, nobody noticed her fall nor did they realise that a young girl was being trampled underfoot. Well, no-one noticed except one – the cloaked stranger in the corner.

He leaped across the room and, shouldering the brawlers aside, scooped her up from the floor and, holding her to his broad chest, carried her out of danger and into the cold night air. The fresh air revived her and she found herself looking up into a pair of calm, grey eyes which were set in a grave and sternly smiling face. She was totally confident that she was being saved and not being kidnapped. She could hear the steady beat of his heart and she relaxed against him.

She asked for his name and his reply surprised her. "Telbarad, a Ranger of the North, at your service, lady. Have you heard of the Rangers?"

"Of course I have," she replied scornfully. "My father is Thorin Oakenshield and my mother is Tauriel, captain of the Ered Luin outpost."

"Ah, yes," he said. "I know of both of them."

For a few moments, he gazed down at her and Rose looked silently back. His eyes seemed to lock with her own and Rose felt as if her heart were smiling. But then he asked where he could take her and he carried her to Roger's home. She could have walked but the Ranger seemed more than happy to hold her and Rose was more than happy to lie with her head against his beating heart. Her father was waiting up, as he had promised, and came running across the room as Telbarad entered with her in his arms. "A brawl at the Mithril Crown," he said briefly and then he placed her gently in a chair.

Thorin ran his hand through his hair. "I don't know what your mother will say," he said. "I shall be in real hot water when she finds out."

"Does she need to find out?" asked Rose.

"Well," said Thorin, "I doubt if you'll be able to keep that black eye from her."

Rose's hand flew to her eye and the stranger laughed. "Don't worry, my lady. Nothing can spoil your radiant beauty." And his silvery eyes glittered. Then he introduced himself to Thorin and Thorin recognised his name.

"Ah, one of the heroes of our northern borders," he said. "Let me take you by the hand." And he shook it with real feeling.

At that moment, Roger, Lostwithiel and Darri staggered in, covered in blood and bruises. "There she is," said Roger, "quite alive. And now you know, I think you can both get out of my home."

But, Barnaby Waller made his entrance too and stood in appalled silence as he saw his damaged offspring and his battered companions. Then he said: "All of you can get out. Thorin, the contracts are cancelled. Everything you touch turns to disaster and the ring-leader always seems to be Rose. She's a trouble-maker and I don't want her near my son." And, before anyone could say anything, he had turned on his heel and left the room.

Roger took Rose's hand and squeezed it: "Don't worry, he shan't keep me away from you," he said.

"I'll show you to a clean, decent inn," said Telbarad and an attractive smile appeared on his rugged face. Now there's a man, thought Thorin. If only Rose would set her sights on him or he on her. But the next morning, as they said goodbye to him at the inn, this did not seem so unlikely. As Telbarad held Rose's hand, apparently reluctant to let it go, she also seemed reluctant to part from him.

"Can you visit us," she asked, "as you travel through the area? I'm sure my mother would like to meet you."

"And I her," he said. Then he bowed, got on his horse and rode away. He glanced back to raise his hand in farewell just before he was out of sight. Rose let out a big sigh. "What an amazing man," she said.

Suitor number four, thought Thorin.

.o00o.

Thorin was home in bed with Tauriel. Yes, she had been really mad with him and Darri and Rose when they arrived back but now they lay on their backs holding hands.

"FOUR of them," said Tauriel. "I can hardly believe it!"

"Well," said Thorin, "the way things are going, I reckon that there could be even more before the year's out."

"What about these latest two?" she asked him. "Do you think they're stronger candidates than Lostwithiel or Darri?"

"Roger's a nice boy, but a bit too young yet. And, even if we give him a few years to mature, I'm confident we'll get a lot of opposition from his father," Thorin mused. "I can imagine he's concluded that we're not the sort of family he wants Roger marrying into."

"And what about this Ranger?" Tauriel asked with interest. "A Numenorean, descended from the Faithful. Just think about having one of those in the family."

"Handsome, strong, stern, calm. He's the sort of man that I'd like to have as a friend. And I reckon he'd soon sort Rose out. There was an instant attraction between them."

"But?" Tauriel asked.

"But, we've got another older man here. I know he's one of the Dunedain – a long-lived group. But, age-wise, Roger seems to suit her best..." He paused. "I really don't know."

"And neither do I," Tauriel sighed. "Perhaps we ought to stop worrying and just let it all come out in the wash."

"Yes, let's stop worrying," said Thorin, turning towards her and pulling her tightly against him. "Let's just think about you and me – for one night, at least."

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking," murmured Tauriel. "What are you thinking, Thorin?"

"Oh, I was just thinking how beautiful you are and how much I like being in bed with you. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that you feel really good," she whispered, caressing him, "and that I'm not very interested in going to sleep tonight." And then she leaned across him and turned down the lamp.

.o00o.


	19. Chapter 19 Thorin and the Ranger

In this episode, Rose finally makes her choice. Is he Thorin's choice too?

.o00o.

THORIN AND THE RANGER

PT I

Telbarad rode down from his camp in the North. It had been six months since he was last in the Grey Havens. Now he was off to visit the Ered Luin outpost and, after that, he would ride down to the forge to meet up with the dwarf, Thorin Oakenshield, his wife, Tauriel – and his daughter, Rose. Ah, Rose. She had often been in his thoughts in the past weeks. Their paths had briefly crossed when he had saved her from injury at the Mithril Crown but he had been drawn to her and, he was sure, she had been drawn to him.

When he sat by his campfire at night and saw her face dancing in the flames, he almost – metaphorically - slapped his wrist. What was he thinking? He was 70 – although in the count of ordinary men he seemed only 35 and was likely to outlive her. And yet, she was a mere girl of 18. Surely she was much too young for him? But, in Middle-earth, where elves lived forever and dwarves might expect to reach 250 years at least, just like his own kind, the Numenoreans, the lifespan of ordinary men and women seemed so brief that surely their time should be seized and enjoyed before their bloom faded? At least, that was what Telbarad was telling himself.

He had never been in love before. His whole life since he could shoot a bow and wield a sword had been spent in the defence of Middle-earth. Love seemed a frivolous thing when the lives of so many hung in the balance if they did but know it. Yes, if they did but know it. He thought of the hobbits of the Shire whose borders he guarded. They passed their lives merrily and peacefully, seemingly totally unaware of the dedication and the sacrifice of those who protected them. And, we are so few, he thought. Long-lived, maybe, but not long-lived enough to outlast the evil that threatened them all.

And perhaps that was why his thoughts now turned to love and marriage and children, children who could grow up and continue the work of the Dunedain. And, if he married an older woman, their time together would be so brief. Better to marry a young girl, particularly a girl like Rose who had an old and wise soul. The minute he had set eyes on her in the Mithril Crown, he had sensed that.

And so, he was going to search her out at her home in the forge and he would cast his cap in the air and see if she were willing to catch it.

But now he was approaching the farmhouse that provided Ered Luin with its only outpost. It had been Gandalf's idea: this rural district needed to be protected in the same way that the Rangers provided protection along the borders – a camp from which patrols could operate. He nodded in approval as he saw its sweeping position and the woods and the stream. The farmhouse looked orderly and well-cared for and, as he approached, he was confronted by a sentry.

Borondin almost guessed from the grey cloak, the silver star that pinned it and the stern bearing of the rider that this was a Ranger. Through the ages of Middle-earth, the two groups had worked closely together and he welcomed Telbarad as a brother. When he escorted him up to the farmhouse, Lostwithiel recognised him at once and took him inside to offer him refreshments. "Our captain, Tauriel, will be here later in the day," he said, "and she will be more than pleased to meet you, particularly after you rescued her daughter from that, um, tricky incident at the Mithril Crown." And Lostwithiel looked vaguely embarrassed.

Telbarad looked askance at the elf lord and wondered what his relationship was with Rose. He had seen Roger kiss her and then Lostwithiel and a young dwarf had seized him and started a fight. Was it over Rose or something else? And, for the first time he wondered how many rivals he had.

The elf showed him around and the Ranger congratulated him on all that he saw. Everything was well under control. The whole troop looked surprisingly strapping for elves and he imagined that their fitness was connected to the hard, athletic life that they endured at the outpost. Lostwithiel, meanwhile, was thinking the same about Telbarad. They sometimes complained about their lifestyle, he thought, but the Rangers spent years moving from camp to camp and travelling hundreds of miles. Telbarad was extremely handsome but in that hard and weathered way that affected men who endured great hardships. He was very striking, tall and broad and muscular with dishevelled, dark brown hair that fell upon his shoulders and a short, clipped beard. His expression was stern and brooding but, when he smiled, his whole face softened. He looks like a "human" version of Thorin, thought Lostwithiel, and wondered what he was doing back in the area so soon.

An hour later, Tauriel appeared and, with her, Arion, riding Warg. He spent the odd day up at the outpost with his mother, getting a feel for a place that he hoped to call home in a few years' time and training Warg to get along with the troop and their horses. Telbarad was taken aback when he saw Warg and, instinctively, his hand went for his sword. But Arion just climbed down from the creature's back and laughed. "You won't be needing that," he said. "He's on our side." And Warg allowed the Ranger to approach him and stroke him.

And then he turned to Tauriel and, bowing low over her hand, apologised for being distracted. "What a truly lovely woman," he thought. She looked too beautiful to be captain of a troop of soldiers but then he saw the respect in the eyes of the elf lords and the way they deferred to her. She must have been tough with them, he grinned to himself, and perhaps that's why they were so impressive.

They all sat down and talked about their duties and their work at the outpost and, when evening came, he volunteered to go out on night patrol with Lostwithiel and five others. They crossed paths with the day patrol and Telbarad was interested to meet Challis and Lithin who were wearing silver betrothal rings around their necks. "And will you return to the Grey Havens once you are married?" he asked. But they looked surprised and showed him an outbuilding which was being converted to supply both married quarters and guest accommodation. "It's lucky you're out on night patrol," they laughed, "because the place isn't finished yet."

After the patrol had set off, Tauriel sat and considered whether Telbarad had some reason for visiting the area other than checking out the farmhouse. She was impressed by him – by his looks, his demeanour, his intelligence, his quiet manner. He reminded her of Thorin. And this is what concerned her. She decided that it would be wrong to push Rose in this man's direction just because she found him attractive herself. What would suit her, might not necessarily suit Rose.

The day came, the patrol returned after an uneventful night and they all went off to sleep, Telbarad on a bed roll in Tauriel's office. He and the elves got together for food at midday and then Tauriel invited the Ranger down to the forge to meet up with Thorin. She thought he accepted her offer quite eagerly and that afternoon, she and Arion and Warg and Telbarad set off for home. Lostwithiel waved them off but felt disquieted: the Ranger had spent much of the night asking about the Oakenshield family in general and Rose in particular. He sighed. Not another hopeful lover to fight off, he thought.

He and Darri had both tacitly agreed to back off for the moment. The incident in the Mithril Crown had shaken them. Because of their jealousy, Rose might have been seriously hurt and it was only the quick action of the Ranger that had saved her from something no worse than a black eye. Roger was safely under the control of his father back in the Grey Havens – at least for the time being. And it seemed to the elf and the dwarf that Rose was not yet old enough to make decisions about her future life. And so they carried on as before, being friendly and charming and seeing her as much as possible but not trying to push her in any way.

But this Ranger was a new factor and he wondered what Rose had thought of her saviour.

.o00o.

When they reached the forge, Thorin, Rose and Poppy came eagerly out to meet them – then stopped in surprise on the threshold when they saw who was accompanying Tauriel. Thorin strode forward with his hand outstretched to the Ranger and they grasped each other by the arm. But Rose stood shyly in the doorway. She felt very excited to see him again but wasn't sure how she should behave with him. Had he come to see Thorin or had he come to see her? She hoped very much that he had come to see her.

Telbarad stepped towards her, gently smiling. He took her hand and bowed low over it. Then he looked at her with those calm, grey eyes and said: "Hello, Rose." He held one hand and she covered it with the other. It seemed right to hold him like this and wrong to let him go.

She smiled back and said: "Hello, Ranger." And he thought how very blue her eyes were. Thorin grinned to himself. There certainly was a connection. He looked across at Tauriel and Tauriel gave a little nod of agreement.

That evening, they all enjoyed a very pleasant meal together. Telbarad was so gentle with her that Rose began to relax and her normal lively manner began to show itself. Was Telbarad looking for someone quiet and biddable, Thorin wondered? Because he wouldn't find it in Rose. It was best she showed that side of herself before things went much further. And he began to tell Telbarad about the naughty things Rose had got up to when she was a child. But the Ranger began to laugh and Rose, instead of being embarrassed, began to elaborate on her adventures until they were all roaring. Poppy sat there wide-eyed, finding it difficult to believe that her big sister had done all these things whilst at the same time telling her how to behave and not to behave.

Telbarad laughed more that evening than he had done in a long time. Rose was even more wonderful than he had at first believed. Not only was she beautiful; she was strong, she was full of spirit and she made him happy. When he heard about her childhood it broke his heart and he wished he had been there to protect her; and when Arion told him how she had jumped into the sea with him in order to escape the pirates, his heart lifted at her courage. She was utterly amazing and utterly beautiful and he wanted her.

.o00o.

PT II

In bed that night, Tauriel and Thorin discussed the new man in Rose's life. "I like him so much," sighed Tauriel.

"Hey!" grunted Thorin. "Don't like him too much or I shall be jealous again."

"Well, perhaps he's a bit TOO young for me," she grinned. "He's only seventy, after all!"

"A mere stripling," Thorin snorted in response, "but doubtless full of energy!"

"Why, goodness, you old man! It sounds as if you think you're running out of steam," she laughed.

"Not for a few years yet, I hope," whispered Thorin in his dark, husky voice. And Tauriel felt the usual thrill run through her and wound him tightly in her arms.

.o00o.

The next morning, Rose took Telbarad out to the forge and showed him the commissions that she was working on and the Ranger was very impressed. "So, you make jewellery, then?" he asked.

She laughed. "No, I'm a smith," she said. "I can make more than pretty jewellery." And when he raised his eyebrow in disbelief, she brought out the sword that she had recently made for herself. It was an extremely fine piece and he was in awe of her skill. "Thorin's giving me lessons in swordsmanship," she said.

"I find it hard to believe," he smiled, "that such a willowy, beautiful young girl like yourself could beat metal into shape with a hammer."

She laughed again and took off her jacket, exposing her bare arms. Then she picked up a hammer and demonstrated her strength on an iron farm implement that she was in the middle of making. But, she also tucked away in the corner of her mind his remark that he thought her beautiful.

Telbarad couldn't take his eyes off her arms as she worked, watching the muscles flex beneath the white skin. When she had finished and held the piece out for his inspection, he came forward and softly ran his fingers down the length of them, from shoulder to wrist so that she shivered at his touch. Then he took the implement and the hammer from her hands and put them aside. And then he slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her close to him. They looked into each other's eyes, the blue and the grey, and he said: "Your work is beautiful. But, then, everything about you is beautiful, Rose." And he leaned forward and kissed her very gently on the lips.

Apart from Roger's snatched kiss in the Mithril Crown, this was Rose's first experience of the real thing. She had imagined Lostwithiel and Darri kissing her but those fantasy kisses were nothing like this and she responded to him, sliding her hands behind his neck and bringing him firmly down on her mouth. His tongue parted her lips and she opened to him. Telbarad pushed her against a pillar and locked her in a passionate embrace. Her heart was banging against her ribs and the world seemed to turn about her. Was this love, she wondered?

She heard his breath quickening and realised that hers was getting faster too as an exploring hand ran down her body. But he gasped and suddenly pulled himself away and walked out of the forge. And when Rose went to the door, he was nowhere to be seen. She stood there trembling and feeling very confused about his reaction to what had been, for her, a wonderful moment. She drank some water from the pump in the corner, took a deep breath and then walked back to the house.

"Did he like your work?" Tauriel asked, looking up from an item she was sewing. Poppy was playing on the floor and Thorin was still finishing off his breakfast.

"Yes, I think he did," responded Rose vaguely.

"Well," said Thorin, finishing off the last mouthful, "I should hope so, too. You've learned everything from me and you've learned it well." And he looked annoyed that Telbarad had not been more effusive in his admiration for his remarkable daughter.

"Where is he now?" he continued. "I want to talk to him about orcs."

"I don't know where he went after he left the forge," replied Rose in a distant voice and her mother stopped sewing and looked at her for a moment.

"Well, it's a lovely morning," she said. "Why don't you go down and look for him by the river. It's so pretty there at the moment and I told him about it just before you two went to the forge."

"All right," said Rose, and off she went.

Tauriel furrowed her brows and then suggested that Poppy go and help Arion with Warg in the stables. After the little girl had skipped out of the room, she said, "I wonder if they've had some kind of lover's tiff? Something's happened, anyway."

His wife understood much more than he did about stuff like this and so Thorin deferred to her opinion. "What do you think they might have argued about?" he asked curiously.

"Perhaps he got a bit too passionate in the forge and it frightened her," said Tauriel.

Thorin spluttered on his drink. "You mean you think they were up to something in the forge?"

"More than likely," said Tauriel calmly.

"And you sent her off to find him by the river so that they can get up to a bit more? What kind of mother does that?" said Thorin in disbelief.

"The sensible mother who wants the best for her daughter. They need time together on their own, time to get to know each other. He'll be gone soon."

"Well," snarled Thorin, rising to his feet. "I'm not so sure I want Telbarad to "know" Rose!" And he marched towards the door.

"Where are you going, Thorin?" asked his wife.

"Down to the river. Where do you think?" he snapped.

"I wouldn't if I were you," shouted Tauriel after him. But Thorin ignored her and she rolled up her eyes.

.o00o.

Rose had found Telbarad down by the river as Tauriel had guessed. He was standing quietly, leaning against a willow tree and gazing into the water. He was thinking about various experiences in his adult life when he had slept with the occasional lady of the town or an older woman looking for intimacy. But, nothing had prepared him for his reaction when he had taken Rose in his arms. It had been so powerful that he knew he had to get out of the forge before something happened that he didn't want to happen. Dwarves and elves were so chaste in their love, unlike men. They were not intimate until they were betrothed and then that intimacy meant you were as good as married; and, after that, you were each other's forever. Is that what Rose would expect, as a child raised by a dwarf and an elf? He knew how he felt about Rose, but did Rose know how she felt about him? He remembered how he had nearly forced himself upon her and was determined to give her that chance to decide what it was she wanted.

"Telbarad?" she said. She had followed him and now he felt cornered. He gazed at her gravely and she walked forward and took him firmly by the hands. "I'm not a child," she said.

"Aren't you?" he responded with a wry smile.

"No," she continued. "I grew up very quickly in those first eight years of my life. I experienced so much and saw so much that sometimes, looking back, I feel like an old woman."

"A very beautiful old woman," he whispered and he ran his finger along her jaw.

"I want you to kiss me again," she said, and she lifted her face to his and closed her eyes.

The Ranger couldn't resist her and placed his lips on hers. Then, with a sigh, she pulled him down onto the grassy river bank and he rolled on top of her. The kiss was as deep and as powerful as the one he had experienced in the forge. But, just as he was becoming lost in her, Thorin's voice yelled, "Get off my daughter!" They both turned their heads and looked up dazedly at the angry dwarf. Telbarad was not a naughty youngster caught out doing something he shouldn't, and so he sat up slowly and leaned an arm on a raised knee and looked quizzically at Thorin.

Rose sat up slowly too and then she laughed. She laughed? That was the last thing Thorin had expected and he blinked. "Oh, Thorin," she said, smiling affectionately at him. "I was only kissing him. I think I'm old enough for that, aren't I?"

"No," Thorin replied, "because I'm old enough to know that it doesn't stop at kissing."

"I know you know," said Rose cheekily. "Tauriel has told me all about that first time in Lake Town and you yourself have told me how you sent her away, back to Mirkwood." She wagged her finger at him. "Shouldn't you have married her after Lake Town? Aren't those the rules?"

Thorin felt his past catching up with him and opened then closed his mouth. Rose saw the confused look on his face and got up and hugged him. "I love you, Thorin," she whispered. "And I know how much you love me. But, please trust me to sort this one out on my own." She kissed him gently on the cheek. Then he hugged her back and turned to Telbarad. "Just don't hurt her," he said. And then he stomped away.

Telbarad stood up as Thorin left the clearing and took Rose in his arms once more. "That was very brave of you, Rose," he smiled.

"Not brave at all," she said. "There's nothing to be afraid of with Thorin."

"There isn't?" he grinned. "Well, he frightens me."

"No, Thorin is the loveliest person I've ever met. You just have to talk to him properly, that's all, and tease him a bit."

"I'll remember that the next time I'm facing an angry father." And he gave her his slow, grave smile.

"Before we go any further," said Rose, "I want to show you something."

"Ah, so we're going further?" he was about to say but he saw the serious look on her face and so said nothing.

She took a pace backwards and began to unbutton her blouse and when all the buttons were undone and he could see her white skin peeping out from between the folds, she pulled her long hair over her shoulder so that it fell down over her breast. Then she suddenly turned around and let the blouse fall from her shoulders to her waist. His breath caught in his throat. Her back was a mass of welts and scars.

"Does it disgust you?" she asked quietly. "Because, if it does, there's no point in going any further, is there?" And she turned back to him and clutched the material to her breast. He stared at her for a moment and then let out his breath in a burst.

"Did Thorin do that to you?" he asked angrily.

She rolled her eyes up. "You're not listening, are you? Of course he didn't! But my real father did. He beat me regularly, sometimes daily, for something and nothing when I was a small child. So," she said again, "does it disgust you?" And she looked up at him anxiously.

Telbarad folded her gently in his arms. "Nothing about you could ever disgust me, Rose," he said. And he slipped his hands under her blouse and tenderly caressed her back, running his fingers delicately over the ugly ridges. "But it does give me pain."

"It upset Thorin and Tauriel for a long time too," she said. "But ever since I came to live with them at the forge, no-one has ever hurt me again – except for the odd black eye at the Mithril Crown," she grinned.

Telbarad kissed her; and then he slowly buttoned up her blouse. And they sat together under the willow tree for a long time, watching the river flow past. Then, hand in hand, they walked back to the forge.

.o00o.

PT III

Lostwithiel had felt concerned as he had waved the Ranger off the previous day. Suddenly, he realised that Rose's suitors were probably facing a very big challenge from this man. He considered whether or not he should meet this challenge on his own or with some support and decided that there was strength in numbers.

The following day, he would be taking some time off and so he made a few plans. He would go down to the forge via the dwarven settlement and pick up Darri and he would send a message to Roger via Challis who was visiting the Grey Havens that evening. They would all meet up at the forge the next morning and make quite sure that Telbarad didn't steal their thunder. The three of them had an understanding between them that they would play the game in a right and proper manner but Telbarad looked like the sort of man who might think that all was fair in love and war.

And so, early the next morning, Lostwithiel rode off to let Darri know what was happening whilst Roger told his father that he was visiting friends and set out from the Grey Havens.

At the forge, Thorin had just returned from the river bank. Tauriel raised an eyebrow. "So, she sent you packing with a flea in your ear, then?" she asked.

Thorin glowered and then he had to laugh. "Of course she did. I found them rolling around in the grass but, when I objected, she just read me a little homily about my behaviour with you at Lake Town and calmly suggested that I go away and let her sort out her own life."

"That's our Rose," smiled Tauriel. She went to him and smoothed away the frown lines from his forehead. "We both approve of Telbarad and it's not always that parents approve of their offspring's choice. She's a wise child with an old head on young shoulders. Let her find her own way."

"But I'm really worried," said Thorin, putting his arms around her. "What if he – you know – and then goes off and we never see him again?"

"You mean, just like you did, Thorin?" she asked gently.

"Yes, just like I did," he said honestly. "And I want more happiness and less pain for Rose."

"How can Rose be more happy than we've been?" she asked. "I know we want to shield her and protect her, but I think the time has come to let her go." And she gently pulled his head down upon her breast. Thorin sighed to himself. I could happily stay here forever, he thought, closing his eyes. But it was at that moment that they heard the sound of horses entering the yard.

Lostwithiel and Darri came riding in with, by coincidence, Roger arriving right behind them. At that precise moment too, Telbarad and Rose came wandering up from the river, hand in hand. The three horsemen dismounted and glared at them just as Tauriel and Thorin opened the door. Arion and Poppy stuck their noses out of the stables to see what was going on.

"I don't want any trouble, lads," growled Thorin, stepping forward to stand between the two groups. Rose was looking indignant and Telbarad seemed amused.

"We're not here to cause any trouble," said Lostwithiel. "We're here to make sure that Rose makes the right choice and isn't pushed into something that, deep down, she knows is wrong for her."

"Well," said Rose in irritation, "if I know it's wrong for me, deep down or otherwise, I shan't make that choice."

"Come on, Rose," said Darri in his kind, sensible voice, "just listen to us - that's all we ask. Then you can kick us out if you still want to."

"Yes," echoed Roger. "Just give us all a fair and equal crack at the whip."

"All right," sighed Thorin, "everyone had better come in." And everyone did come in including Arion and Poppy and Dog.

All nine of them sat around the dining table and you could have cut the atmosphere with a knife. Arion and Poppy sat wide-eyed, excited that they had been let into an adult discussion. "Right," said Tauriel, "all four of you are interested in my daughter, Rose. Is that right?" And Lostwithiel, Darri, Roger and Telbarad nodded.

"And," rumbled Thorin, "you're here today in the hope that she will make a choice?" They all nodded again. "Well," continued Thorin, "I think we should start by giving everyone a chance to say their piece and explain why they think that they are the best husband for Rose." And they all nodded once more. Then Thorin gestured to Lostwithiel to speak first.

The elf lord stood up and cleared his throat and said: "Well, I've known Rose ever since she was ten and we've been through a lot together. Our biggest moment was when I helped her to deliver her baby sister, Poppy, on the first day that I met her and we've become closer and closer since that day." And he smiled at Rose and Poppy and Poppy blew him a little kiss. "At first, I saw her just as a friend and she gave me a lot of emotional support when I lost Challis to Lithin just as I supported her after Poppy was born. Then, suddenly, she grew up into a beautiful young woman and I realised I was in love with her. The whole family is very important to me. Her mother is my captain," and he grinned and gave Tauriel a mock salute, "and, although this might seem like a boast, I have saved her father's life during an orc attack." Thorin nodded in agreement. "We could live up in the married quarters at the outpost, where she could usefully carry on her work as a smith. We would see her mother at least once a week up there and we could visit the forge quite frequently. It would make me very proud not only to marry Rose but to be part of this amazing family." And then he cleared his throat again and sat down. Rose smiled across the table at him as she remembered various moments in their life together.

Thorin nodded to Darri next and the young dwarf stood up nervously, not convinced that he could outdo the eloquence of the elf. "Well, um, well," he began. But then he got into his stride. "I've known Rose since she was first adopted by Thorin and Tauriel when she was eight. She visited Dis up at the dwarven settlement quite frequently and we used to play together. We've got the same sense of humour and we used to get into an awful lot of trouble" – Rose burst out laughing – "but I did help to save her when she got trapped in the caves after the roof collapsed on her. I've been in love with her for some time now and I know I would be a devoted husband. Most importantly, I'm a smith, just like her and Thorin. We have the same passion and we could go on together in our married life, working together and creating together, perhaps here with Thorin, if that's what she wants, or perhaps in our own forge." He thought for a moment and then said: "That's all," and sat down abruptly. Rose was sitting next to him and patted him on the hand.

Next, it was Roger's turn and the handsome, well-educated young man stood up with a certain amount of self -assurance. "I've known Rose almost as long as Darri and first met her at a picnic in the Grey Havens when we were children. She stunned me even as a child. She was the most amazing girl I had ever seen and, amongst the group of children she gathered around her, I was her most ardent follower, even going on a rampage through the market square because she suggested it. I got a really good belting for that from my father. But," he grinned, "it was worth it." He smiled at Rose and she gave him a big smile back. "And, then, she went out of my life for years until 6 months ago when Thorin brought her to my house on business. I can't tell you how overwhelmed I was and I knew straight away that I wanted her for my wife. If she chose me, I could offer her an elegant and comfortable life-style and my father, who has got over the trouble that we caused in the Mithril Crown, could provide us with a large apartment in his mansion. She would be very helpful in our family business and she would never have to worry about anything for the rest of her life. Finally," he said, glaring at his rivals, "I would like to point out that I am the only one who is the same age and the only one who is from the same race. Surely that counts for something?" Rose nodded at him in a kindly fashion and then they all turned to face Telbarad.

Telbarad got slowly to his feet with a wry smile on his face. "Well, what have you got to offer my daughter, Ranger?" Thorin asked.

"Not a lot," he answered and his grey eyes looked coolly around the table whilst his rivals looked back in amazement.

"Then tell us about the little that you think you do bring," said Tauriel with a look of amusement on her face.

"Well, I haven't known her for years like everyone else but neither did I spend a period of time when I only thought of her as a friend. The minute I first saw her at the Mithril Crown six months ago – across a crowded room," and he gave his slow smile again, "I fell for her. I knew straight away that she wasn't an ordinary person and, by the time I parted from her the next day, I knew I would be coming back for her. And, no, I'm not the same age as her, like Roger, and I can't offer her a comfortable lifestyle in a large mansion, nor would I be able to live and work with her at the forge, like Darri, nor do I have the elegance and immortality nor the close ties with her family, like Lostwithiel. All I have to offer is my love and my passion. And I know that these things will be for life." He turned and looked at Rose and something so powerful passed between them that the other suitors realised that they had somehow been outgunned and sprang angrily to their feet.

"You can't offer her anything!" shouted Roger. "Where are you going to live? Do you expect her to wander from camp to camp along the borders with you?"

"Yes," Telbarad calmly replied.

"And have you no qualms," said Darri angrily, "about putting her life in danger every day? If she marries me, then I will keep her safe."

"We will share our lives and share the danger," replied Telbarad. "Life isn't all about being safe."

"I want her to marry Lostwithiel," grizzled Poppy, "because he's wonderful and he's nice to me."

"Well," snapped Roger at the little girl, "if he's so wonderful, perhaps you'd better marry him."

"I want her to marry Lostwithiel too," shouted Arion. "Then, when I join the troop, I shall be able to see her every day."

"It's not what you want, Arion," said Tauriel. "It's what Rose wants."

"But does she know what she wants?" asked Lostwithiel. "She's very young and that's why we were giving her some space – before that Ranger turned up and pushed the issue."

"I didn't push anything," replied Telbarad, still calm in the face of the increasing storm. "Sometimes things just happen."

"Oh, do they just happen?" asked Lostwitihiel with an icy glare. "Or do some people manipulate the situation?"

And so they raged on with Dog giving his opinion with constant yapping and even Warg howling from the stables. In the end, Thorin stood up and yelled "Shut up!" And then he looked around the room and said: "Where's Rose?"

There was consternation. They looked into the bedrooms and the kitchen and then went outside to the forge. Thorin checked out the stables and Tauriel's horse was missing. "She's run away," said Thorin. "All your bad behaviour has made her panic."

They looked aghast and Thorin began to search for tracks to see which way she had gone. But a large party of travellers had just gone past and it was impossible to tell which were Black Demon's prints. "Right! Inside!" said Thorin grimly.

Once inside the hall, he produced a map and he split it up into areas and allotted the four suitors a section each for them to search. Roger looked despondently at the map. "We don't know if she's making for somewhere like the Grey Havens or if she's taking refuge with a friend, like Dis, or if she's just hiding in the woods somewhere so as to get away from us and have time to think. It could take days to find her."

"Well, you've created the situation, so it's up to you to sort it out," growled Thorin. "I'll stay here with my family in case she returns."

"But how will we know if one of the others has found her or if she's returned?" asked Lostwithiel.

"You won't know," snapped Thorin. "All you can do is make a thorough search of your allotted area and then return here to exchange information." And then Tauriel made them all packs to take with them and they rode glumly away.

The children were looking miserable in a corner but Tauriel patted them cheerfully and said: "Don't worry. Your father's up to something. He's guessed more than he's letting on." And she went up to Thorin and tugged him sharply by his plaits.

"Ow"" said Thorin, but he grinned. "How did you know, Tauriel?" he asked.

"Well," she said, "if you really thought that Rose was out there, hysterically wandering in the wild, I honestly can't imagine you volunteering to stay at home with the children. And I also noticed that you didn't suggest the tracking services of either Dog or Warg, but bustled our brave suitors out the door before they had time to think things through." She folded her arms. "So, tell us."

Thorin grinned. "I don't actually know but I can have a good guess," he said. "Of course Rose hasn't run away – but she has gone off to find some peace and quiet so that she can have a think. And I also imagine that she wants to do her thinking in the company of a quiet and sensible friend." And he raised a querying eyebrow.

"Bilbo!" they all shouted as one.

"Snap!" ageed Thorin. "My very same thought. I sent that lot off on a fool's errand because she obviously doesn't want anyone to find her for the moment. But, I'm her father and I'm going to bring her home."

The children cheered and Tauriel made up another pack. And then Thorin mounted his horse. "I'll be a day or so," he said. "Let's hope her swains don't work things out too soon so that we can all have some time to think when we get back."

.o00o.

PT IV

Thorin drove his horse hard and made it to the Shire that night. When Bilbo opened the door, he didn't look in the least bit surprised. And when the dwarf found Rose in the sitting-room drinking a nice cup of tea, his daughter grinned and said: "He always comes."

After getting Thorin some refreshments, Bilbo said, "She's been telling me all about her suitors and I'm making up a list of pros and cons for each of them." And he waved a piece of paper. Rose came and sat on Thorin's lap and Bilbo read out what he had noted so far.

"Pros for Roger: handsome, the same age, the same race, the only son and heir of a rich merchant, could provide a good home within father's mansion, an ardent admirer of Rose since they first met, a sense of daring and fun, not too far away from the forge. Cons: Perhaps too young, never thought to seek Rose out as he got older, living with controlling father might prove difficult, father's plans for her might not include smithing, too much boring socialising."

"Hmmm," said Thorin.

"Pros for Darri," Bilbo continued. "Long-term friend, good-looking, GSOH, kind and thoughtful, a shared interest in smithing, would let Rose pursue her profession, could live with or near to Oakenshield family, same race as Rose's father, long life-span. Cons: Older with three or four times Rose's life expectancy, different race, shorter," Thorin looked up indignantly, "easily manipulated, too kind for his own good, loving but not passionate."

"Hmmm," said Thorin again.

"Pros for Lostwithiel," continued Bilbo.

"There are pros for Lostwithiel?" asked Thorin sarcastically.

"Now stop it," said Rose, digging him in the ribs.

"Tall," said Bilbo and Thorin glared, "very handsome, wealthy, a member of the elven aristocracy, a fine soldier, a guardian of our borders, strong ties to Tauriel and Poppy, Thorin's rescuer, immortal." Thorin snorted a bit.

"And I'd also like to point out," said Bilbo, pressing on with determination, "that the Oakenshields deliberately broke up a potential romance between him and Challis, thus depriving him of a possible life partner." Rose looked guilty but Thorin just rolled up his eyes.

"Cons," said Bilbo.

"Have we got time?" muttered Thorin.

"Shush, you naughty man," said Rose.

"Cons," repeated Bilbo. "Immortal, much, much older, easily gets in a flap, has not been a devoted lover but has fallen for Challis, too."

"And others," glowered Thorin.

"What?" said Rose in surprise.

"Nothing," her father muttered.

"Can I get on with it?" asked Bilbo and they nodded. "Not the same race, might want to go back to being an idle courtier."

"Is that it?" asked Thorin. "There must be more."

"I'll never know why your friendship is so edgy," said Rose with a sigh.

"No, you won't," said Thorin and he compressed his lips.

"Pros for Telbarad," said Bilbo forcefully. "Handsome, rugged, a warrior with strong protective instincts, calm and controlled..."

"You need to be if you want to be in this family," said Thorin.

"Calm and controlled," repeated Bilbo, knowing just what the dwarf meant. "Even-tempered, passionate..." Rose grinned.

"Did you suggest that one?" whispered Thorin. "I'd like to know why."

"Passionate," said Bilbo in a louder voice. "An honoured Numenorean descended from the Faithful, long-lived, a noble defender of our borders, dedicated, brave, the parents' choice."

"Is that a pro?" asked Rose with a grin.

"Cons," said Bilbo. "Not quite human, different life-span, seventy years old, has only just met Rose, will take her away to live a vagabond life-style on the northern borders."

"That last isn't a con," said Rose, her eyes dancing with excitement. I'd love to be a Ranger. And just think how useful my smithing would be to them."

"But what happens when you have children?" asked Bilbo seriously.

"Then we would have to make the sacrifice of all Dunedain," she said softly. "I would have to take them to live with Elrond until they were old enough."

"And is the sacrifice worth making?" he asked.

"Yes," she said quietly, "I think it is."

"Then you might as well tear up that sheet of paper," said Thorin, "because I think she's made her choice."

.o00o.

Rose and Thorin set out from Bag End the next morning, hoping to get back to the forge by the early evening. Now that Rose had made up her mind, she couldn't wait to get back to tell Tauriel. She laughed heartily when Thorin told her how he had sent off her suitors on a wild goose chase just so that no-one else but he would come for her. "I love you, Thorin," she said. And Thorin smiled into his beard.

But, when they got back to the forge, Warg and Dog were howling and barking in their stable and the door of the hall was wide open. They ran to the house and found it empty: no sign of Tauriel, Arion or Poppy. But the place had been ransacked and showed signs of violent activity. They then ran to the stable that housed the ponies and there they found, to their horror, that the ponies lay dead with their throats cut. Thorin pulled Rose against his chest so that she wouldn't see, but she had seen and she wept bitter tears. "What's happened? What's happened, Thorin?" she cried.

Thorin drew her away from the stables and back into the house. "They're still alive," he said, "but they've been taken captive."

"By orcs again?" she asked.

"No, I don't think so," he replied. "I think it's men. They've stolen things from the house that orcs wouldn't bother with and orcs would only kill animals if they wanted to eat them. That was done out of sheer malice. It's the sort of thing that men do if they want revenge. But I just can't think of anyone at the moment who hates this family enough to do what has been done here."

"Friends of the squatters?" suggested Rose.

"No." Thorin shook his head. "No-one knows about that except us."

"This is all my fault, Thorin," wailed Rose. "If I hadn't run away, Tauriel wouldn't have been here on her own."

"It's the sole fault of the men who did this deed," said Thorin. "Now I shall go and find your mother and your brother and your sister and bring them back."

Rose hugged him and knew he would do what he had promised.

"How will you find them?" she asked.

"Listen to Warg howling," he grinned. "I think he's ready to rip a few throats out, don't you think?"

"But will he let you ride him?" asked Rose.

"Yes," said Thorin. "With his master gone, I'm the pack leader now." And he strode out into the yard. He took his long-handled axe from his horse and strapped it on his back. "Now, I want you to lock yourself inside the house with Dog. And you're not to let anyone in unless you know and trust them. Stand back from the stables. I'm going to let them out and they'll both be wild."

Rose stood back and held the horses and Thorin opened the stable door. Both Dog and Warg came out, lashing about them and snarling; Dog ran to Rose but Warg immediately made for the crossroads. "Heel!" cried Thorin in a commanding voice and, to Rose's amazement, the creature stopped and turned although its body rippled and strained with the desire to be gone.

Thorin went to Warg and stroked and calmed him. "Stable those horses, Rose, in Warg's section, then get inside the house." And he moved to mount the giant white wolf. But, just at that moment, Telbarad came clattering into the yard. "What's happened?" he asked grimly.

"The ponies have been killed, the hall ransacked and my family has been taken captive," said Thorin shortly.

The Ranger's face grew grimmer still if that were possible. "I'm coming with you," he said.

"It will have to be on Warg, then," said the dwarf. "You'll lose us on a horse."

And so, Telbarad handed the reins of his horse to Rose and kissed her on the forehead. And Rose gave him a brief hug and urged him to go with a quick gesture of her hand. Then Thorin mounted Warg and pulled the Ranger up behind him and they were off like the wind in the direction of the Grey Havens. Thorin made no effort to guide him. Warg would know exactly where his master was.

As they sped along, Telbarad spoke over Thorin's shoulder. "I soon worked out that you were playing a game with us. That's why I'm back so soon. Where was she?"

"At Bilbo's," Thorin said. And the Ranger laughed to think of the three of them at Bag End, heads together and deciding on his fate.

"Don't worry," the dwarf continued. "It looks like you're the one."

"All the more reason, then, that I help to get my future in-laws back in one piece," said Telbarad.

"Do you doubt that?" asked Thorin.

"No," he said with a harsh laugh. "What men could withstand us three?" And Thorin echoed his laughter.

"I don't think they're far ahead of us," said Thorin. "The tracks in and around the house were quite fresh and I reckon there were about a dozen of them."

"Not too many, then," said Telbarad.

A man after my own heart, thought Thorin.

"They won't get far, now that it's getting dark. They'll pull right off the road to make camp on the assumption that no-one will find them."

And Thorin was right. After less than an hour, Warg suddenly swerved off the road and into the trees. Thorin took the axe from his shoulder and Telbarad drew his sword. They plunged for half a mile through the woods until, ahead, they could see a camp fire glowing in the gathering gloom. Warg didn't slow or hesitate but hurled himself into the glade, scattering the camp fire and the men and slashing at least two throats in passing. There was screaming and confusion and the dwarf and the Ranger leaped from the warg's back.

In an instant, Thorin took in the scene. Tauriel and the children were tied with their backs to a tree but they laughed and whooped triumphantly as the trio made their unexpected and violent appearance. Nine or ten men were left standing and they were attired like men of the South. "Corsairs!" muttered Thorin immediately. And as he whirled into action, it came as no surprise to him when he found himself face to face with Rose's dad. The man held a sword in one hand and a short-handled axe in the other but he looked very frightened. "You do well to look afraid," Thorin said to him just a moment before he struck off his head. He thought about the dead ponies and he thought about the scars on Rose's back and felt absolutely no compunction at all that he had killed her father.

Warg was a killing machine. By the time Thorin and the Ranger had killed a couple of men each, the bodies of the rest lay strewn around the glade. Thorin ran to his family and cut them free. "We knew you would come," grinned Arion.

"He always does," smiled Tauriel and she drew him into her arms and kissed him thoroughly. The children totally ignored the gruesome sight of so many mangled bodies and ran to hug Warg. They buried their faces in his bloodstained fur and didn't flinch.

"They deserved to die," said Poppy. "They killed our ponies." And everyone nodded in agreement.

"That's one tough little sister-in-law I've got there," said Telbarad.

"And who would have thought," said Arion, "that only a year ago she was a revolting little princess?"

And then they gathered all the pirate horses together and chose three and the two children gleefully mounted on Warg, and with the spare horses in a train behind them, they rode back to the forge.

There were three horses already tethered in the yard and they realised that the other suitors had also returned. When Rose came to the door, she flung herself first upon her mother and her siblings and then into Telbarad's arms. The others looked despondent. "Only one man can win," Thorin tried to console them.

"I think we knew already what the outcome would be, but we didn't want to go down without a fight," said Lostwithiel and he went off to hear the details of Warg's attack upon the Corsairs. This creature will be a fantastic asset, he thought, when Arion joins the troop.

Rose had kept herself busy, tidying and getting food ready in expectation of their return. So they all sat down and spent an uproarious evening together recounting their adventure.

"Rose's dad was involved in a mutiny," said Tauriel. "He and the crew took over the ship and he became the leader. He had been a galley slave for years and he came back to the Grey Havens with only one thought: he wanted his revenge on Rose. And when he didn't find her here, he meant to sell us as slaves when he realised what we must mean to her. And he killed the ponies purely out of spite."

"It was horrible," said Poppy, "and I cried." She was sitting on her father's lap and she buried her face in his comforting shoulder.

"I'm glad my father's dead," said Rose ferociously, thinking of Little Beorn.

"But, the death of the ponies just hardened our hearts," said Tauriel.

"Yes," said Arion. "No mercy."

"No mercy," echoed Poppy viciously. And when they all looked in amazement at her, she explained that she was practising being tough for the time when she went up and joined the elven troop at the farmhouse.

"And Lostwithiel will have to wait for me now, because I'm going to marry him when I grow up." And they all laughed. But Thorin thought to himself: you lot don't know the determination of my daughter. That elf will join my family one way or another, I can see that.

And then they tucked the children into bed and the guests retired to the spare rooms for the night all except the Ranger who went out for a romantic moonlight stroll with Rose.

"Come to bed," said Tauriel.

"No," said Thorin stubbornly, "I'm waiting up for my daughter."

"You might be waiting a long time," sighed Tauriel. "They're young and in love."

"Telbarad isn't young," said Thorin looking grumpy.

"Well, he's youngish," said Tauriel. "And compared to me, Thorin, so are you. So, let's go to bed and pretend that we haven't been married for years and years but are just discovering love for the first time."

And she took him by his plaits and drew him gently into the bedroom.

"Sounds like a plan," he said in his dark, seductive voice. And he picked her up in his arms and kicked the door shut behind him.

.o00o.

It was just as well that Thorin hadn't decided to wait up. Down on the river bank, Telbarad was standing behind Rose, slowly and purposefully undoing all the pretty buttons down the back of her high-necked blouse. Like that time before, she had pulled her lovely black hair forward over her shoulder and was waiting with bent head for him to finish the task. Neither of them spoke and, in the silence, Rose could smell the perfume of the night-scented stock and hear the frogs croaking quietly in the river.

As he undid the last button, the Ranger realised that he was holding his breath and let it out with a long sigh. Then he stooped and kissed her on the side of her long, white neck. Rose started to turn in his arms, not wanting him to see the scars but he pushed the blouse down from her shoulders and held her gently. She made a murmur of protest but he shushed her and placed a kiss on the nape of her neck. Then she felt warm fingers begin to trace the pattern of ridges that her cruel father had placed there. She tensed but his light caresses were followed by his soft lips and he slowly moved down her back until he was kneeling. Holding her by her hips, he planted a last feather-light kiss at the hollow of her spine so that she quivered.

Her breathing had become ragged but he rose slowly to his feet again, and, when he had reached her neck, he buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair. She gave a gasp but then leaned back against his broad chest in a gesture of surrender. Only then did he allow her to turn in his arms and she let the blouse fall from her body onto the ground.

Rose held the Ranger's face between her hands and looked up at him, stroking his silken beard and gazing seriously into his eyes.

"I want you," said Telbarad softly. "But it has to be your choice." He struggled to keep his voice calm so that she would not be unfairly persuaded by the sound of his desire.

"I've made my choice," she smiled and Telbarad slowly lowered her to the grass.

As a child, in the crowded hell-holes that her father had dragged her through, Rose had occasionally come across men and women coupling. It had seemed nasty and brutish and unpleasant and she wondered why any woman would willingly do it. But, she was a sensible girl and, once she had moved to the forge and saw the love that existed between Thorin and Tauriel, she couldn't imagine Tauriel doing anything with Thorin that wasn't pleasurable and wonderful. And what she experienced with Telbarad that night on the river bank was wonderful.

When it was finally over and they lay panting on the grass, Telbarad rolled over on his back, pulling her with him.

"Cor," said Rose, feeling as though she were slowly floating back down to earth. "I liked that - can we do it again?"

And Telbarad lay there gasping for breath and snorting in disbelief. "Not yet, not yet, you insatiable hussy!" he managed to get out.

"Well, perhaps after you've had a bit of a lie down?" she asked.

And he laughed uproariously and said: "Perhaps."

.o00o.


	20. Chapter 20 Thorin and his Son

Rose gets married in this episode and moves North but her absence has an effect on the entire family. Can Thorin cope? Can Arion cope? And, more importantly, does this change the dynamics between father and son? Hope you enjoy this one as Arion moves into the difficult teenage years.

THORIN AND HIS SON

PT I

It had all started really, thought Tauriel, when Rose had got married. The elf lay on her back in bed with Thorin gently snoring and cuddled into her side, his great arm resting across her belly. The lamp was turned right down and she studied the cracks in the ceiling. No, it had happened before then, she reconsidered, the moment that Telbarad and Rose were betrothed and the Ranger had begun to visit on a regular basis. Thorin had become grumpy at that point.

She remembered how joyful the whole family had been when Rose and Telbarad exchanged rings. He was so right for their beloved, adopted daughter. They couldn't have chosen better themselves. It was wonderful to see the love that glowed out of their eyes when they looked at each other. And Arion and Poppy also seemed pleased for their sister, even though they had originally voted for Lostwithiel. Rose had chosen a hard life but – anything that made her happy, seemed to be the consensus of opinion.

Telbarad had been gone for a few weeks after the betrothal and Rose seemed to be bearing it well. "I'll have to get used to being parted from my husband," she said, "when we move to the camps in the North. We'll lead a disordered lifestyle there." But, the day before Telbarad returned, Thorin found her making up the double bed in the guest suite.

"What are you doing?" he asked, although he knew the answer.

"What do you think?" she laughed. "This is for me and Telbarad. We're betrothed now, you know."

Thorin fidgeted and glowered. "Lots of betrothed couples still wait until they're married," he finally said.

Rose looked up from the pillow she was fitting into its cover, then held it to her breast. She looked Thorin steadily in the eyes. "There's nothing to wait for," she said.

Thorin's breath exploded from his lips. "What do you mean by that?" he snapped.

Rose still regarded him calmly. "I think you know what I mean, Thorin," she said quietly. "Telbarad and I made love the night before we announced our betrothal."

The pain that went through Thorin took him by surprise. He loved Rose and he was glad that Telbarad loved her too. He was a fine man – none better. And yet, and yet... Rose was his child – a very grown up child, admittedly – but it seemed all wrong to think of her in this adult way. He looked at the bed and pushed away the images that danced in his head. Rose saw the confused look appear on his face. She put down the pillow and placed her hand gently on his arm. "You didn't wait, did you?" she asked. "You just assumed that you would share a bed with Tauriel until you got married."

There was no answer to that and it should have settled things. But Thorin just glared and stomped out of the room. Rose sighed. She had had a feeling that this was going to happen. She understood Thorin too well. They had a very special relationship – that bond had been there from the very first day they had met and was beyond kinship. And now that connection had to be carefully unravelled so that a new man could take Thorin's place. Perhaps she had been wrong to make it so obvious that she and Telbarad now had a sexual relationship. What would her adopted father have preferred? For them to sneak off every night down to the river bank?

Yes, that was exactly what Thorin would have preferred as he was explaining to Tauriel in the kitchen. "I just don't want them doing it under my roof before they're married," he said. "I would prefer not to know what they're up to. Why can't they just sneak off somewhere and me know nothing about it?"

Tauriel slid her arms around his waist and hugged him. "You old hypocrite," she teased gently. "You certainly didn't wait until we were married – you didn't even wait until we were betrothed."

"Well," he harrumphed, "that was different." She raised an eyebrow. "I thought I was going to be killed by the dragon and that I would never see you again."

"How very selfish of you," she said, kissing him on the nose. "You might have left me alone and pregnant."

"It wasn't all my decision," he retorted grumpily. "You did have some say in the matter. And, anyway, we didn't sleep under my father's roof so there weren't his feelings to take into consideration."

"And I don't think your father's roof would have stopped you, even if that had been where we slept," laughed Tauriel, remembering his passion.

Thorin looked away because he had no answer and he found it impossible to explain to Tauriel what he couldn't even explain to himself.

"Now, come on, take a deep breath and just accept things, Thorin. This is the way that it is between them and we should be celebrating the fact that she seems to have found that passion that we so wanted for her."

She was right, of course. And so, he took that deep breath and, when Telbarad turned up the next day, he never guessed that Thorin was unhappy with the arrangements until Rose told him about it when they were both in bed together later that night. Telbarad's brow furrowed. "I don't want to upset Thorin," he said. "I suppose we could sleep in separate rooms but it seems ridiculous to carry on behind his back for a whole year."

"Don't worry," said Rose. "He's just behaving in that possessive way that dwarves do. He'll get over it after Tauriel has had a chat with him. Just don't say anything – carry on as though nothing's the matter."

And so they did and Tauriel had thought that everything was going well until Arion came bursting into the kitchen two days later with a look of indignation on his face.

"Hey!" he said. "Did you know that Rose and Telbarad are sleeping together?" He had gone into the guest room and found their possessions lying on the made-up bed.

"Of course they are," answered Tauriel. "They're betrothed now."

"And you don't mind?" he asked. And a slightly angry tone had entered his voice.

Is this his dwarven side showing, Tauriel wondered with a sigh? "No, I don't mind," she said.

"Well, I'm going to speak to my father," he said in a puritanical voice and, before she could stop him, he had swept out of the kitchen and had marched off to the forge.

And so, Thorin found himself playing Devil's advocate. He entirely agreed with Arion's attitude but felt he ought to support Tauriel and Rose. "It's what people often do after they have exchanged rings," he explained carefully.

"But, not everyone does it, do they?" muttered Arion. "And I don't think my sister ought to. That's not the way we should behave in this family." And at that moment, he heard Rose and Telbarad come back from a ride out. "I'm going to talk to her about it," he said, making for the door.

"Oh, no, you don't," said Thorin grabbing him by the arm. "It's nothing to do with you. It's a decision a betrothed couple make between themselves. If you don't want to have a really bad argument with your sister, you'll leave things alone."

Arion was growing into a tall, strapping lad and he easily shook off Thorin's hand. He looked upset and glared at his father. "I thought you would agree with me," he shouted. "I thought you would understand and do something about it. If she had chosen Lostwithiel, he would have behaved in a more decent manner because he knows the right and proper way to behave." And he ran off into the stable next door to be with Dog and Warg who always agreed with all his opinions.

Fortunately, Telbarad was gone for a month the next day and this helped the situation to cool. By the time he came back, Thorin and Arion had taken a goodly number of deep breaths and managed to be civil to the happy couple.

And so the year passed and, at last, Rose and Telbarad were married.

.o00o.

PT II

The wedding was very beautiful and very enjoyable. It was held in the Mountain Eagle Inn, halfway between the forge and the dwarven settlement because, although it was only a relatively quiet ceremony, enough people had been invited that the forge was too small to take them all.

Elrond had agreed to come so that he could marry them and he picked up Bilbo en route to Ered Luin. All the elves from the outpost were there, of course, plus Dis and Darri and his parents, representing the dwarves. Roger and his father had come from the Grey Havens and a handful of the Rangers who could be spared had travelled down from the North to support Telbarad.

The inn was a lovely place to hold a summer wedding. It was high up in the hills with magnificent views of the countryside all around. It was a very old building, full of charm and character, surrounded by beautiful gardens. Thorin and Tauriel squeezed each other's hands as they remembered the first night they had met. Tauriel had been heading for the inn but had decided not to press on in the dark. When she stopped, instead, at Thorin's forge, the beginnings of their first feelings for each other had started to grow.

The wedding ceremony itself was held out in the gardens and, when Rose appeared, accompanied by a very self-aware Poppy, and walked down through a floral archway in her lovely dress, everyone sighed at her beauty. Who would have imagined, thought Thorin, that he had brought home this exquisite creature slung over his saddle like a sack of grain? Of course, she hadn't been exquisite then, but a scruffy street urchin. And what joy that naughty, brave and bloody-minded creature had brought into their lives! And now she was leaving them. Thorin moved forward to escort her to the flower strewn table where Elrond and Telbarad were waiting for them. He was going to hand her over to this man and he didn't want to. A tear ran down his cheek and Rose looked up and wiped it away with a gentle smile.

"It's supposed to be a happy day, Thorin," she whispered.

"I know it is," he smiled back.

And so they were married and there was feasting and dancing and singing and laughter. Lostwithiel, Darri and Roger drowned their sorrows over their lost love and managed to corner Telbarad at one point during the evening.

"You'll be the best husband on Middle-earth or else you'll answer to us," warned Lostwithiel.

"Too true," hiccupped Roger.

"'S'right," slurred Darri.

And, after they had extracted a promise from him that he would, indeed, be the best husband ever, they staggered off, feeling that their duty was done, and collapsed in a corner.

Then, on a wonderful starlit night, and under a brilliant full moon, all the guests retired to their beds and sighed over young love. Rose and Telbarad stood on the balcony of their room and gazed out over the scene, breathing in the scented air.

"Are you happy?" asked Telbarad.

"I can't tell you how much," Rose smiled.

And they turned to their own bed and their passion carried them into the night.

.o00o.

The following day, Rose and Telbarad and the other Rangers set out for the North. There were some difficult goodbyes and Thorin and Tauriel wondered when they would see Rose again. Arion disappeared and couldn't be found when the couple finally set off.

"He's upset," said Tauriel to Rose, "like we all are. But you two have been so close all your young lives. He's really going to miss you."

As they rode away, Telbarad grimaced. "I feel a certain hatred directed at me by the men of your family at the moment because I've taken you away from them."

Rose leaned over from her horse and stroked his arm. "It's hard for all of us," she said. "I've belonged to a very wonderful family all these years and now I'm the first one to break it up. I'm a bit worried about Arion but, in the not too distant future, he'll be off to join the outpost and he'll have his own life. And then," she laughed, "Poppy will marry Lostwithiel and Thorin and Tauriel will have their lives back again."

Telbarad looked startled: "You don't really think that Poppy will marry Lostwithiel, do you?"

"Of course she will. Poppy always gets her way." And she laughed and turned her face to the North.

.o00o.

Back at the forge, life did not return to normal. Now that Rose was no longer there, Tauriel began to realise what a buffer she had been. She had handled every one of them so well. With Tauriel, she had been kind, loving and supportive, helping her in so many ways and making her laugh. With the children, she had been firm and patient, often standing between the two of them, preventing fights and distracting them with her entertaining and imaginative ideas. Both Poppy and Arion always felt very special when Rose was around and they didn't stay out of humour for very long when subjected to a bit of her coaxing and wheedling.

And Thorin... Tauriel had to smile. He was just like another difficult child to Rose and she knew exactly how to tease him and jolly him along when he was grumpy and bad-tempered until he saw how silly he was being and could laugh at himself. That was how Tauriel herself managed him but it was so much easier with the two of them forming a pincer movement.

Tauriel sighed. Now Thorin and Arion, instead of getting over Rose's absence, were both growing grumpier by the day. And, as for Poppy... In the last couple of years, Arion and his sister had learned to get along pretty well together. But now they just seemed to rub each other up the wrong way. Arion was fourteen and, like the elves, he was maturing quickly and looked, both in face and form, like a human youth in his late teens. He was already taller than Thorin and was very strongly built like his father. Tauriel smiled to herself when she thought how strikingly handsome her son was. It would be lovely to have him up at the outpost in a few years and he and Warg would make a powerful addition to her troop of men.

But his grumpy, dwarven side seemed to be growing along with his size. He no longer had the same patience with Poppy who was a very pretty, sulky child of ten. She was also maturing quickly, in size if not in temperament. They were both lonely without Rose and yet they were irritated by each other's company and kept out of each other's way. Tauriel tried to get her interested in the cooking but it bored her and Thorin tried to show her how to make jewellery but being creative was not in her nature. She spent most of her day playing with her dolls and combing her ringlets in front of a mirror. Her only other pleasure was in grooming Warg or the horses, Magpie and Rosie Girl (named after you-know-who), which the shape-shifter had sent from his home on the fringes of Mirkwood to replace Blue and Little Beorn some time ago.

Arion seemed to idle away a lot of his time. Thorin tried to spend a few hours every day with him doing weapons training and he was coming along well there; and Tauriel worked on improving his archery skills and he was pretty good there too. But, if he wasn't being directed by one or other of his parents, he just seemed to mess around down by the river.

One day, Roger stopped by on his way home to invite Arion to a party in the Grey Havens that evening. It was the most exciting thing to happen in a long time and, after Roger had gone on his way, Arion, without asking permission from either of his parents, dropped everything and began to pack for the night.

"And where do you think you're going?" snapped Thorin, seeing him lead Magpie out of the stables.

"To a party in the Grey Havens," said Arion curtly. "Roger invited me."

Thorin glowered. "I think not," he said. "You're not old enough and you haven't finished those chores for your mother."

Arion glowered back and they stood nose to nose. "You're a hopeless father," Arion shouted. "You're no fun and you won't let me make my own fun either! I bet Rose was glad to get out of here!"

Thorin was startled but he wasn't giving any ground. "Put that horse back in its stable," he growled, "and get back into the house."

"No," retaliated Arion. "I'm going to the Grey Havens and you shan't stop me!" With that, he made as if to mount his horse.

Thorin lost his temper and, grabbing him by his collar, pulled him out of the stirrup. Arion lost his balance and fell to the ground. "You'll do as I say, young man!" shouted Thorin but Arion scrambled to his feet and raised his fists. "Are you threatening me, boy?" snarled the dwarf.

"You're nothing but a big bully, father!" yelled Arion. "And you can't make me do what I don't want to do. I'm going to that party!" And he turned back to the horse once more.

"Don't you dare defy me!" shouted Thorin in his turn and, when Arion ignored him, he seized him by the shoulder again.

"Get your hands off me!" hissed Arion, red with fury, but when his father only gripped him harder, he spun around and hit him with all his strength.

Thorin fell to the ground, stunned not only by the powerful blow but by the fact that his son had hit him. Within moments, Arion had mounted his horse and was gone.

Poppy had heard the shouting and came running to the door. When she saw Thorin lying in a daze on the ground with blood running down his face, she yelled for her mother and then ran forward to Thorin's side. She sat in the dirt in her pretty dress and, lifting Thorin's head onto her lap, drew out an embroidered handkerchief and tried to mop his injuries. Tauriel came then and, between them, they helped him to his feet and into the house and onto his bed. Poppy went to get a bowl of water while Tauriel held Thorin's hand. "He hit me," said Thorin in amazement. "Arion hit me...And he called me a bully."

Poppy hovered anxiously while Tauriel bathed Thorin's face. "The trouble is, you're both too much like each other," she said soothingly. "He just lost his temper because you crossed him – and you lost your temper because he defied you." She stroked his long locks back from his bruised face. "Give him a day or so. Let him go to his party. And then he'll regret what he's done and come home and apologise."

But, three days later, there was still no sign of Arion. And that was why Tauriel was lying awake in bed and wondering how it had all started. Thorin had been very restless too every night and she was relieved that he had gone to sleep at last. Sons and fathers; fathers and sons, she pondered. This was just a phase, she was sure, and had been provoked by Rose's absence. Hopefully, it wouldn't last. But they would have to decide what to do about Arion in the morning.

And when the morning came, Thorin had already made his decision. "I'm going after him," he said. "I'll go to Roger's house and I'll bring him home."

"No more fighting," pleaded Tauriel.

"There won't be," promised Thorin. "I'll talk to him sensibly and I'll even be the first to apologise – a bit – sort of." She knew he would find that hard and so she hugged him and kissed him firmly.

Poppy came to wave him off. She had been very quiet these last few days and she stood on the doorstep looking concerned. "And if he won't come home, just try to twist his arm by saying that I'm not prepared to look after Warg any more – that I'll let him starve. That should do the trick."

Tauriel put an arm around her: "Don't worry, Poppy. He's only having a bit of a sulk. Your father will bring him back tomorrow."

.o00o.

THORIN AND HIS SON  
PT III

But when Thorin got to Barnaby Waller's fine mansion, neither Roger nor Arion were there. "They've gone out with their friends for the day," said Barnaby, offering Thorin some refreshments.

"Your son's fist packs a wallop," he said, looking at the dwarf's still badly bruised face. "Takes after his father." And he patted Thorin on the back in an encouraging way.

Thorin gave him a wry look. "So, he's told you about it?" he asked.

"Well, he's told me his side of things," Barnaby shrugged. "But I know what these lads are like."

"I wish I knew," sighed Thorin, "but this is the first time I've ever had any trouble with him. Things have changed since Rose left."

"I would have thought that things would have changed for the better," grinned the merchant. "She seemed to cause so much trouble."

"No," said Thorin, bristling in his daughter's defence. "You only know about the couple of occasions when she caused trouble in the town. But Lostwithiel once called her a jewel and he was absolutely right. She brought harmony to the family and, now that she's gone, we're all pretty crabby. Arion was very dependent on her and, once she met Telbarad, he became quite jealous. Me too. Neither of us wanted to lose her and we were spoiling for a fight." He rubbed his bruised face: "Except I didn't realise it and this came out of the blue."

The merchant took a swig from his glass of wine and looked troubled. "Look, Thorin, I know we fathers ought to stick together, but he doesn't want to see you so I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Thorin was taken aback. "So, you're saying you won't help?"

Barnaby sighed: "This is my way of helping," he said. "My son's older so I've been through all this. If I try to engineer a meeting between the two of you, the way he's feeling at the moment, it just won't work. He'll refuse to stay here any longer and he'll storm out. Who knows what back-street bordello he'll finish up in? At least we all know he's safe if he stays here." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll talk to him, of course, say you came. Just give him a few more days and he might decide to come home of his own accord when he knows how concerned you are."

Barnaby looked as though he doubted his own words. Arion was feeling very grown up at the moment; he was having a good time gallivanting around the Grey Havens with Roger and his gang of friends and Barnaby knew that the delights of the town were having a strong pull on him. All the more reason, then, for Arion to nurture his anger with his father because, if the lad forgave Thorin or accepted an apology, he would feel obliged to return to the bosom of his family.

But, Thorin acknowledged the good sense of the merchant's words and, with a feeling of defeat, went home.

Tauriel and Poppy came running to the door when they heard the sound of Thorin's horse in the yard, but their faces fell when they saw that he was alone. "He won't see me," he said, and he related the conversation that he had had with Barnaby Waller.

"Perhaps he's right," Tauriel comforted him. "Let's just wait a few days before we get worried, and see what happens."

Poppy hugged Thorin tightly. She had never seen her father look so upset and, since Arion's departure, now that she was the only child in the home, she suddenly felt a strange weight of responsibility. She was so angry with the pain her brother was causing Thorin that she felt like throttling him. And she hugged the dwarf even more tightly. "It'll be all right in the end, father," she said gently. And Tauriel was amazed to see this kindly show of concern. Perhaps she's growing up at last, the elf thought.

But, after a week, there was still no sign of Arion. "Well, what do we do now?" asked Thorin, running his fingers through his dark hair which, to Tauriel's eyes, seemed to be greying by the minute.

"I think I should try next," said the elf quietly.

"And perhaps I should come too," added Poppy. "He might want to see me if he's keen to find out about Warg."

They all agreed that this seemed like the only sensible plan and, the next day, all three of them set off for the Grey Havens.

.o00o.

Whilst they waited in the reception room for Barnaby Waller, Poppy looked around her in wonder. This level of affluence and wealth was new to her and she was open-mouthed at the beauty and elegance of the room. She walked around, imagining herself living there. Yes, she breathed to herself, this is the sort of place where I belong. She could see herself in fine clothing, greeting rich guests and impressing them with her loveliness. Suddenly, living with Lostwithiel up at the outpost no longer seemed like such an attractive proposition. Lostwithiel was desperately handsome and she loved him very much – but Roger wasn't half-bad either.

She had met his father only once, at Rose's wedding. Now, when he entered the room, she appraised him more closely. He seemed like a genial, pleasant sort with a sharp head on his shoulders. Poppy was pretty sharp too – with her elven blood, she was ten years old going on sixteen – and she studied him from under her lashes. Hmm, he was the sort of man she could doubtless wrap around her little finger. She decided she could live a very comfortable life in this house with Roger and his father. Barnaby had not quite got that far in his thoughts, but he did think that Poppy was a very pretty and well-mannered young lady who, unlike Rose, did her parents proud.

"He won't see you, Tauriel," said the merchant. "I think he's more frightened of his mother than his father," he grimaced. "But he will see you, Poppy. I think he wants to know all about Warg."

"I thought he would," said Poppy smugly. And she followed him out of the room to an upstairs salon.

Barnaby pointed out the door and then left her to it. When Poppy entered the room, she found Arion waiting for her. She blinked. It was under two weeks but her brother seemed different somehow – older even. His hair was restyled and no longer fell in a shaggy mass like their father's and he was wearing some of Roger's expensive and elegant clothes. He looks sort of – sort of – louche, she thought. That was a good new word she had learned recently but it perfectly described his appearance as he leaned nonchalantly against the fireplace.

"Arion?" she said, almost as if she expected him to deny it.

"Of course it is," he snapped. "Who else?"

"Well, you look so different," she said.

"It's called town bronze," he replied airily, but he looked quite pleased.

Then Poppy felt quite irritated by his silly airs. "So, when are you going to come home, then, you idiot?" she said sharply.

"I'm not," he replied. "I shall stay here until I'm ready to join the troop up at the outpost."

She snorted. "If they'll have you, that is. Do you think mother - or even Lostwithiel - will agree after all the upset you're causing?"

He looked stubborn. The spitting image of father, she thought. "Well, someone will want me, even if the outpost doesn't, especially if I have Warg in tow."

"So, I just might let Warg starve, then," she retorted. "I'm fed up with looking after him for your benefit."

"Don't you dare, Poppy," he threatened angrily, balling his fists, and he began to look more like a badly behaved teenager than an elegant young man.

"On the other hand," she said, tossing her golden curls, "after a year, I'm sure he will treat ME like pack leader and I shall tell him to bite your head off!"

For a moment, Arion was at a loss and then he snarled: "I don't care, see if I don't. You can keep Warg and I shall keep my freedom. I'm just so fed up with father telling me what to do and what not to do that anything's worth it so that I don't have to live under his roof any more!"

Poppy stared at him wide-eyed. "What is wrong with you, you fool? He's been a good father to us and now he's really upset, particularly as you won't see him."

Arion felt his power. "He's upset, is he?" he asked with a certain amount of pleasure. "Well, serve him right for being so horrible to me." And he turned away from her and walked to the window. "You can get out now," he said when she didn't move. "I've said everything I want to say." And when she had run from the room, he went to the heavy door and turned the key. He knew his father.

And, indeed, a few minutes later, Thorin was up the stairs and was banging on the door. "Let me in, Arion!" he yelled. "Or I'll break down this door and drag you home!" And, for a moment, Arion thought he really would and he backed away looking around him for an escape route. But, both Tauriel and Barnaby came running up behind Thorin and convinced him that this was not the way forward.

"Let's go home," said Tauriel, "and think about what to do next."

.o00o.

Yes, what to do next? They seemed to have run out of options. They could carry on waiting, of course, and, in the end, Arion might see sense. But, there again, he might not and then they might lose their son forever. They could send Lostwithiel to the mansion and Lostwithiel could tell him that there was no longer a position for him up at the outpost unless he behaved himself, but Arion responded badly to threats. And Tauriel remembered that time, all those years ago, when Bard and Thranduil had threatened Thorin before the Gate at the Lonely Mountain and he was prepared to respond with violence and the sacrifice of many lives. She looked at Thorin and thought that he remembered too.

"If only Rose were here," sighed Tauriel to herself. "She knew how to handle him."

"Well, there's only one thing for it, then," said Thorin. "I'll have to go North and fetch Rose home."

Tauriel gaped. "But you can't go running after Rose every time there's a spat in the family," she said.

"It's not a spat," said Thorin. "This is really serious. It's Arion's future that lies in the balance here and I'm really afraid that, if we don't do something, he may finish up in an awful lot of trouble."

"I think father's right," said Poppy. "You should have seen him. All dressed up and with his hair all styled – just the sort of idiot that has such a confident opinion of himself that he ends up mixing with the wrong crowd."

Tauriel looked at her daughter again. Where had this grown-up little girl suddenly sprung from? But, under pressure from both of them, she finally agreed that Thorin should seek out their daughter and Telbarad in the camps on the Northern border.

.o00o.

PT IV

Thorin had been riding North for days. This was new territory for him and he wasn't too sure about where he was going. He just knew that Rose was up here somewhere. The terrain was rugged and both he and his horse were feeling very tired. And so, he was quite glad one night, after he had camped, that although he couldn't find the Rangers, the Rangers found him.

He was stirring his food over a fire when, suddenly, he was surrounded by bowmen, their arrows nocked. "Don't move a muscle, dwarf," their leader said. He recognised their grey cloaks and their silver clasps straight away.

He sighed: "My name is Thorin Oakenshield, the father of Rose, who is married to the Ranger, Telbarad," he said.

They immediately lowered their bows and strode forward to greet him. "Rose's father," they laughed. "Now, there's a woman and a half!" And Thorin felt very pleased that his daughter had obviously made such an impression on them.

They sat down around his fire and shared their supplies and a flask of wine with him. Their stories about Rose demonstrated that she had fitted in extremely well in her new surroundings and that she was a very popular member of the team.

"Where can I find her?" asked Thorin.

"She's at our base camp," answered the leader, "but, if you're looking for Telbarad as well, then you're out of luck. He's off on a patrol and will be gone for several weeks."

Good, thought Thorin. At least there will be no argument with her husband about a quick trip back to Ered Luin. Two of the Rangers were bound for their base camp and they accompanied Thorin there the next morning. It was lucky they had found him, he thought again, because he would never have found the place. There was a cleft in the rocks, covered by bushes, which was, in fact, a secret path that opened up into a wide clearing. As an extra security measure, there was a wooden palisade and, within this stockade, were the tents of the Rangers. Thorin was appalled at the harsh living conditions – and this was Base Camp. He wondered what the other camps were like if this was the best that they could offer.

The Rangers saw his look and they laughed. "Yes, this is luxury," they said, "but you soon get used to it. And we don't live here all the time, remember. Sometimes, when we're on patrol, we get to rent a room at the Mountain Eagle Inn or the Prancing Pony at Bree or even the Mithril Crown in the fleshpots of the Grey Havens." And Thorin thought that perhaps he had grown soft at his forge.

"Thorin!" a well-loved and hugely missed voice suddenly shouted. And he turned. And there was Rose. Her hair was pulled back untidily with a scruffy ribbon but she looked fit and healthy and tanned. She ran towards him and flung her arms around him and he hugged her back. But, suddenly, she backed away and, holding him at arms' length, said in a frightened voice: "Why are you here? What's the matter? Tauriel? The children?" and she scanned his face.

"No, no," he said quickly. "Everyone's fine. But we need your help." And she took him to a bench and he told her what had happened with Arion. She saw the distress in his face and she put her arm around his shoulders.

"That naughty boy," she said. "Don't you worry, now, Thorin. I'll sort him out. We'll leave tomorrow." And so they did.

The journey back to the forge was a long but happy one for Thorin. Being once again in Rose's company was such a pleasure. And she seemed to lift all the weight from off his shoulders. He was the head of the family and they always turned to him to sort things out. And he acknowledged that responsibility. But sometimes – just sometimes – it felt wonderful when someone else stepped forward to take that load. He was more than happy to fight off orcs or pirates or feisty elves, for that matter, but when it came to sorting out relationships, he often made a mess of things. So, here was Rose to help him over this particular hump with Arion, thank goodness.

He seemed to laugh all the way home as she told him of her adventures and her new life. It suited her, he could see that, and when she talked about Telbarad and he saw the love shining in her face, it made him feel selfish that he had wanted to keep her from the Ranger, safe at the forge. He sighed inwardly. That's how he had felt about Tauriel – his precious possession that he had wanted to keep from the rest of the world. But he was learning.

When they finally reached the forge, Poppy and Tauriel rushed out to meet them and many tears of joy were shed. Thorin had been gone for three weeks and, in all that time, there had been no word from Arion. Rose felt very angry on their behalf.

The next day, Rose and Thorin rode into the Grey Havens but Arion and Roger were off gadding about again with their friends. "I'm not expecting them back until late tonight," said Barnaby. I think they'll be eating out with everyone at the Mithril Crown or one of the other inns."

Thorin tried offering the merchant money for supporting his son all this time but Barnaby waved him away. "We gave him a bed and a few old clothes of Roger's when he first arrived, we stable his horse and he eats the odd meal with us but, as far as I can make out, he pays for himself when he's out with the other lads and he's bought himself a whole new wardrobe."

Thorin looked worried. And, as he walked away from the mansion, he said to Rose: "Well, I haven't the faintest idea where all this money is coming from. He's got no money of his own and he took nothing with him when he left that day." And Rose agreed that this was something to cause concern.

They spent what remained of the afternoon sitting in the sun down on the quay and then they ate at the Mithril Crown. But there was no sign of Arion or Roger and his friends. "Well," sighed Thorin, "I think we'd better go looking for him." There were not an insubstantial number of inns in the town and so they decided to split up. Before they each went their separate ways, Thorin divided the contents of his purse between them. "I'm really worried about all this money he's spending," he explained. "He must have borrowed from his rich friends, so we'll need to pay them back when we find them."

It was Rose who was the first to find Roger and his friends at the Three Trolls, a very seedy dive at the wrong end of town. The young man was startled and then pleased and then worried when he saw Rose approaching him across the crowded and dingy room.

"Rose!" he exclaimed. "What on earth are you doing here?" But he half-guessed and looked vaguely uncomfortable. There was a grim expression on his former love's face. She was dressed in her Ranger's outfit and, with her untidy hair and tanned skin, she did not appear to him as beautiful as she had once been. A little feeling of relief settled around his heart. His father had always said that she wasn't a suitable woman to go marrying into the Waller family and, tonight, he could almost see what he meant. She certainly didn't fit the image of the glamorous hostess that they both had in mind.

Rose was greeted cheerfully by the little band of young men she had associated with as a child but she sat down and said sternly: "Right! Where is he?" Uneasy glances were passed around the table and there was silence. "What are you all playing at?" she snapped. "He's a young boy, in your care. Are you saying that you don't know where he is?" Again, eyes darted away from her and there was much shifting on the bench.

"Roger!" she said angrily. "If you don't tell me this minute, I'll have you in so much hot water." And she looked around the room. "Does your father know you frequent this place?" Roger paled at the mention of his father and cleared his throat.

"Arion's off borrowing money from someone."

"Ah, yes," said Rose, taking out her purse. "How much does he owe all of you?"

They looked startled. "Oh, he hasn't borrowed from us," one of them said. "Our fathers keep a tight hold on their purse-strings, y'know. We would if we could, so to speak, but we can't."

Suddenly, all became clear to Rose. "A money-lender!" she said in disgust. "You've let him go to a money-lender!" And they all shuffled their feet and looked ashamed. The back alleys and stews of the Grey Havens were not a complete unknown to Rose and she was angry rather than faint-hearted when she heard the news. "All right," she said, rising to her feet with a determined look they all recognised from long ago, "which one?"

"W-which one?" stuttered Roger.

"Yes, which money-lender?" she urged.

"B-but you don't intend to go there on your own, do you?" squeaked Roger.

"Well, I don't intend to take any of you with me," retorted Rose scornfully. "You'd be less help than hindrance. Now, which one?"

"T-tom Blakey in P-pennysworth Lane," he managed to get out.

"Yes, I know him," she said. And, scooping up her purse, she swept from the room.

.o00o.

No-one tried to stop the tall, confident Ranger who strode through the filthy slums and narrow alleys of the town. She was obviously someone who knew her way around and, after one look, the dark forms slinking in the shadows went off to find easier pickings. And, with no hesitation, Rose made her way to Pennysworth Lane, long a haunt of those who loaned money at extortionate rates to foolish young men.

Two large thugs guarded the door of the tumbledown property where she knew that the money lender did his business. "I've come to see Tom Blakey," she announced.

"He's wiv a client," one of the men replied.

"I know," said Rose calmly. "And I've come to pay the young man's debt."

Foolishly, seeing that she was a woman and hearing also the chink of coins, the thugs let her in, gesturing to a door at the end of the corridor. Rose knocked sharply once and entered. Arion was sitting opposite Blakey across a table. Both were startled by her sudden entrance and jumped to their feet. "Rose!" exclaimed Arion as if he could hardly believe his eyes.

Rose ignored him and, instead, confronted Blakey. "Yes, it's Rose," she said calmly. "Do you remember me, Tom?" And, of course he remembered her, even after all these years. He had been one of her father's cronies and Rose was a very memorable person. So many vile creatures from her past, she thought. How much longer would they come back to haunt her?

Blakey sank slowly down into his seat and gave her a slimy smile. "Why, Rose," he said. "And to what do I owe the pleasure?" He was an overweight, middle-aged man with sparse, dirty-blond hair smarmed down in a greasy comb-over. His watery blue eyes narrowed.

"I've come to pay his bill, Tom," she said, hooking a finger at Arion. "Unfortunately, he's a relative of mine. So how much has he borrowed from you?"

Blakey named a large sum but Rose was relieved that it was within her means and flung the money down on the table. Blakey swept the gold coins quickly away into a drawer and locked it. "And, of course," he said, "he now owes me interest." And he named another huge sum.

"I'm sorry, Tom," said Rose politely, "I don't think so." And she put her purse away and took Arion, who was standing there with a dazed expression on his face, by the elbow.

As she made for the door, Blakey said in a threatening voice: "You'll not get past my men."

"I think I shall," said Rose. "And, if they give me any trouble, then I shall go straight to the elven guards and tell them how you've been lending money to an underage fourteen year old."

"Fourteen!" Blakey spluttered. And Rose wasn't surprised that he had been caught out because Arion looked a lot older than that. Then she marched the boy to the door and Blakey came with her. He nodded to his thugs and they let them through. But as they walked off down the alley, the money-lender hissed to his men: "Get rid of them and dump them in the river!" His men gestured across the street to two more burly thugs lurking in the shadows and the four of them prowled after the receding figures.

Meanwhile, Arion was glowering at Rose. "I didn't need your help," he said.

"Well, from where I was standing, it looked like you did."

"I was sorting it," he muttered.

"Got a sack of gold in your pocket, then?" she laughed. And, suddenly, it was the old Rose and he had to laugh too.

She put an arm around his shoulder and he felt safe. "You must have been scared," she said. And he nodded. "I reckon there's a bit of rewinding for you to do in your life, don't you think?" she said gently. "And I'm here to help you do it."

He stopped and put his arms around her and hugged her hard. "I'm in such a mess, Rose," he said quietly. "I'm glad you've come." But as they stood there, she caught a movement in the shadows.

"We're being followed," she murmured. "Are you armed?" And he shook his head.

"Keep walking," she said. "And be on the alert."

Two of the men behind them slipped off down a side alley and suddenly appeared in front of them. The two behind closed in and she drew her sword. Rose did not feel confident. Arion only had his fists and both he and Rose were only half-trained in warcraft. She was very pleased with her own progress and she knew a lot of below the belt skills that she had picked up long ago but she doubted if this was enough to defeat the brute force and ignorance of the four that surrounded them.

Their attackers closed in on them, grinning. But, suddenly, out of the shadows, a soft, deep voice said: "Are you threatening my children, by any chance?" And their hearts lifted.

The thugs spun around, trying to trace where the voice was coming from. Mistake, thought Rose and she ran through the man who was nearest to her. Arion leaped forward and hit another of them with the same powerful blow that had felled Thorin. Their father ran through a third and the fourth made his escape. Rose bent and seized the dazed man by his shirt collar and shook him until he began to come to. "Tell your master," she said in a fierce whisper, "That if he or any of his men dare to come near the Oakenshield family again, it is they who will finish up in the river." And then she let him go.

"Bad idea, Rose," said Thorin. "Remember those squatters that we set free?"

"But, this time," said Rose, "I think that Blakey needed a message."

And then they went off to the Silver Bear where Telbarad had taken them on the night of the brawl at the Mistral Crown. There they sat down and, after Thorin had bought them all a much-needed drink, they were ready to talk.

"I'm sorry, Arion," said Thorin. "That day you rode off, I handled things very badly."

Arion blinked at his father's admission. "No," he said. "It was my fault and, ever since then, I have behaved very, very badly because I just didn't know how to go back to the beginning and start again."

"And," laughed Rose," digging him in the ribs, "you didn't want all your fun to come to an end too soon, did you? Go on, admit it."

Arion grinned down at the table. "Yes, I admit it. But that didn't make my behaviour any the less awful." And he looked up at Thorin. "Will you forgive me, father?"

"Of course I do, Arion," said Thorin and wrapped him in a great bear hug.

.o00o.

When they finally got back to the forge, there were no recriminations, just lots of hugs and kisses. And then, much to everyone's excitement, Thorin decided that they would all accompany Rose on her journey back North so that everyone could see where their favourite person was now living.

Thorin and Tauriel lay in bed that night and they both heaved a huge sigh of relief. "I shall be glad when they've all grown up and are off our hands," said Thorin.

"You'll miss them when they've gone," said Tauriel.

"But then," murmured Thorin in his husky voice, "I shall have you all to myself again for the first time since Arion was born." And he took her in his arms and kissed her passionately.

Tauriel was relieved. This was the first time he had touched her in weeks. All that worrying about Arion had completely drained him of desire. She ran her hands down his body and wriggled more closely into his arms. "It's been a long time, Thorin," she whispered.

"Too long," he said. "I'm sorry, Tauriel."

"Goodness, Thorin," grinned the elf. "All this apologising! What has got into you?"

"A very, VERY strong desire to make love to my wife," he said.

"Then perhaps you should apologise more often," she suggested softly.

And he agreed that this sounded like a plan and turned off the lamp.

.o00o.


	21. Chapter 21 Thorin and the Runaway

Arion. Thorin's son, caused trouble last week. I think it's about time for Poppy, Thorin's daughter, to run rings around him. What kind of a mess will she get herself into and will Thorin be able to get her out of it?

THORIN AND THE RUNAWAY

Pt I

Poppy was bored. She had sat in front of her mirror all morning, styling and restyling her hair. She had worn it up; she had worn it down; she had worn it halfway up and halfway down; with ribbons and without; with flowers on the side and with flowers on the top. She had run out of options and now she was bored. What was a 13 year old girl expected to do in a forge, at a crossroads, in the middle of nowhere?

Her lovely sister, Rose, was buried in an even more desolate place, a camp on the Northern borders. Poppy knew how awful it was up there because the whole family had visited her. But, at least it was Rose's choice. Poppy did not choose to be here, but there was no alternative.

To make things worse, her mother had gone off on a little holiday to visit Bilbo. Poppy had asked to go with her – anything to relieve the tedium – but her father had said that her mother deserved a bit of a rest away from them all with her dear friend, the hobbit. So, Dis had come to help look after them and, although she was very fond of her aunt, Dis could be a bit sharp with her and didn't respond to Poppy's expert wheedling. "Now, don't you think, missy, that you can wrap me around your little finger like you can your father," she would say. "After raising two naughty boys, I'm up to all the tricks."

And her relationship with her brother, Arion, went up and down. He was seventeen and would soon be joining her mother's troop at the outpost. He spent a lot of time day-dreaming about his coming role, guarding this area of Middle-earth, and he had very little time for her. On top of that, her father was always out in his forge, making stuff for money he didn't need. She wouldn't mind if he was prepared to spend his money on her, but he seemed to be reluctant to spend it on anyone and she had to really pull out all her cajoling stops when she wanted a new dress.

Poppy fiddled with her hair a little longer and then wandered out of her bedroom to see what everyone else was up to. Dis was in the kitchen looking very hot and flustered. She was making lunch but she was also trying to finish off a rather beautiful and elaborate cake for tea. It was her way of showing her love for her brother and his family. She had covered it with a smooth, soft icing and was now piping pretty flowers all around the edge. She stood up with a sigh, pleased with her efforts.

"Can I have a slice?" Poppy asked.

"No, you can't," came the short reply. "It's for tea."

Dis turned away to wash her tools and Poppy leaned over the table and, running her finger around the edge of the cake, scooped up a large dollop of the icing and several of the florets, completely destroying its pristine beauty.

Her aunt turned back just as the sticky mouthful disappeared into her mouth and she didn't hold back. "You selfish child!" she yelled. "Now you've ruined it and I took all morning finishing it off!"

Poppy shrugged sullenly. "It's only food. It doesn't matter whether it's missing a bit of icing or not – it all tastes the same."

Tears of frustration rolled down Dis' face. "You're so selfish, Poppy - and you always have been! You do exactly what you like when you like and you don't care about anyone else. Now just get out of my kitchen!"

"It's not your kitchen," said Poppy rudely. "It's more my kitchen than yours. You don't live here and I don't know why my father still invites you here. We're all grown up now and we don't need your help any more!"

Well, the reason why Thorin and Tauriel still asked for Dis' help was because they were so grateful to her for all her selfless, sterling work with their children over the years. They knew that she had devoted herself to them after losing her own sons and that coming to the forge had brought some purpose to her life. And now Poppy was throwing all that devotion back in her face. Dis hurried out of the kitchen and sought refuge in her own room, brushing aside her tears as she went.

Poppy felt in a vile and destructive mood. She knew she had been horribly unkind to Dis but she didn't care. Wondering who else she could have a go at, she wandered out to the stables. Arion was there tidying up after grooming Warg.

"You said that I could do that," she complained.

"Well," he retorted, "I waited hours for you and when you couldn't be bothered, I did it myself."

"So, he's all ready to ride," she said, perking up a little.

"Not by you," he replied. "I haven't got time to come with you and you're not going on your own." Then he marched out of the stables.

Poppy kicked a bale of hay and then went up to Warg and buried her face in his thick fur. She felt defiant and so she swung herself up on his back and urged him out into the yard. But, when she tried to ride him through the gate and into the lane, he dug his heels in and refused to move. He was a very intelligent animal.

She kicked him angrily in the ribs and yelled at him but he only growled in an undertone and stayed put. And that's how Arion found them.

"Get down!" he spluttered. "How dare you kick Warg like that?" And he dragged her from the creature's back. Warg gave a look that signified that he had done his duty and sloped back into his stable for a nice sleep.

"What did I do to deserve a sister like you?" Arion yelled over his shoulder as he headed for the house. "Give me Rose any day!"

Odious comparisons were always being made between her and Rose, Poppy thought angrily. She loved Rose but it made her feel inadequate every time someone asked her why she couldn't be more like her sister.

As a last resort, she made her way into her father's forge.

Thorin was feeling frustrated because he couldn't get a fine sword he was making quite right. He was concentrating very hard. Poppy plonked herself down on a bench across from the anvil but Thorin, his brow furrowed, ignored her.

"Oh, for goodness' sake, father," she said. "Do stop hammering for a moment. I can't hear myself think."

Thorin reluctantly stopped working on the sword. "What's the matter?" he said, looking up at her.

"I'm bored," she sighed.

Thorin felt irritated and went back to his hammering. He was tired because he always slept badly when Tauriel wasn't in his bed. "So, what's new?" he said curtly. He really had no time for Poppy today.

"I want to go riding, father," she continued. "Arion won't let me ride Warg and Rosie Girl has cast a shoe. I've been waiting all morning for you to fix her."

"Well," he said rather irritably, "you'll just have to wait a bit longer. I've got this sword to finish."

Poppy stood up and stamped her foot. "Why do I always come last in this family?" she complained.

"Because you're the smallest and the youngest and life is very unfair," her father retorted. Actually both he and Poppy knew that she was put first more often than not, but neither felt in the mood for pleasantries today.

She was about to stomp out when Arion stormed in.

"Did you know that she's really upset Dis?" he said. "I found her crying in her room." And no, Thorin did not know. And that was the last straw.

"Go to your room, Poppy," he snapped, "and stay there. None of us want to see you for the rest of the day!" And so, with her nose held arrogantly in the air, Poppy flounced out of the forge.

She lay down on her bed for a bit whilst she thought about things. "Nobody likes me, everybody hates me; I think I'll go and eat worms," Rose used to laugh at them when anyone got into a sullen state. But Rose wasn't there to chivvy her out of her bad humour. She could see no reason to stop here any longer. And so, she got up and changed into the scruffy gown she always wore to groom Warg and the ponies and tied her hair back with an old ribbon. After that, she packed some spare clothing and a small amount of money she had into a wicker basket. Then she snuck out to the kitchen and gathered together a bit of food and finally slipped out of the house and the yard and into the road.

She was going to run away to the Grey Havens. Warg refused to cooperate and her pony needed a new shoe. So, she had decided to walk and hitch lifts. She would have a good head start because no-one would think to look for her until the evening. And, once she got to the Grey Havens, it would be easy to hide or get herself lost there. She only had the vaguest idea about where she would sleep or how she would eat but Rose had managed on her own for ages so she was confident that she could too.

And luck was with her. After only a quarter of a mile, a cart overtook her and she was invited to hop on board. It was empty and travelled along at a fair pace and Poppy was soon on her way to town.

.o00o.

Pt II

Evening came to the forge and Thorin, Dis and Arion had spent a nice, quiet day there. Perhaps, thought Thorin with an amused grimace, he should shut his daughter away a bit more often. But now, they were all beginning to feel a measure of guilt. Poppy had been as quiet as a mouse and, as they gathered for a meal together, Thorin wondered why she hadn't made an appearance yet. Sulking, probably, he concluded.

Dis set out the table and placed her cake in the centre. I'll give her an extra large slice, she thought, just to show her that she still loved her. And Arion decided to offer to take her for a ride on Warg the next day to cheer her up.

When the food was on the table, Thorin knocked on Poppy's bedroom door. "You can come out now," he said. But there was no response. He opened the door and the room was empty. "She's not there," he said to the others and everyone began to have a very bad feeling. Arion ran down to the river; Thorin searched the stables and outbuildings; Dis went back to her bedroom.

"Some of her clothes are missing," she said. "I think she's run away."

Thorin panicked. He ran to the stables and began to saddle his horse, his mind racing. But Dis came after him and tried to calm him down. "Don't dash off just anywhere, brother," she said. "Let Dog and Warg at least sniff out her direction." Arion already had the animals out in the road and it seemed that she was heading for the Grey Havens. But, after a very short time, her trail went cold.

"She must have got a lift on a wagon," said Thorin. Then they all returned to the forge, Dis packed some food and Thorin tried to force a little down his throat.

"Shall I ride to Hobbiton and fetch Tauriel?" asked Dis.

Thorin hesitated. "I don't think so," he said at last. "This is something I need to sort out myself without worrying her. I might even catch up with Poppy on the road."

"Are you sure?" asked Dis. "You'll be in trouble when she finds out."

But Thorin had made up his mind and, after a short time, galloped off on his horse. He reached the Grey Havens just as it got dark without overtaking her. What to do now? He went off down to the docks where ships were still unloading but there was no sign of her and no ships had put to sea that afternoon. So, she's still in the town, he thought.

And, yes, Poppy was still in the town. When she had arrived that afternoon, feeling elated that she had done something so incredibly naughty, she stood in the market place wondering what next to do. Escaping from the forge had been easy and she hadn't really thought beyond that. Now she stood there, looking like a country bumpkin in her shabby clothing, and she had no idea what her next action should be. There was a possibility that, if the girl hadn't approached her, she would have spent her money on a room at a cheap inn and then she would have returned home the next day, satisfied with the thought that she had caused maximum mayhem.

But, the girl did approach her. "Hello," she said. "You look a bit lost."

She was a pretty girl, a few years older than Poppy, with short, curly hair, bright red in colour, and dressed in clean, well-pressed clothing. "Are you new in town?" she asked.

"Yes," said Poppy. She liked the girl's friendly smile and the way her curls bobbed up and down as she spoke.

"I'm Mary. Are you looking for a place to stay?" was the next question. "Because you could come home with me, if you wanted to."

"Well," hesitated Poppy, "I haven't got much money."

"Don't worry about that," said the girl. "I work in a lovely house for a really nice employer. He's very kind and is always on the look-out to help silly young girls like you and me who come to town with nothing but big ideas. I put in a few hours for him every evening when he entertains and, in return, he gives me a pretty room, food and clothes. You can share my room, if you like, until you find your feet."

Poppy felt a sense of relief that she had made a friend, and such a useful one too. "I'm Poppy," she said, "and that's a very kind offer. Although," she added, "I might only stay one night." The girl linked arms with her and they set off chattering down the road.

The house was old but very imposing, not perhaps in the smartest part of town, but a footman wearing a lot of gold braid opened the door and the interior was very elegantly decorated. There was a sweeping staircase but Mary took Poppy up to the top floor by way of the servants' back stairs. As she had promised, however, her room was very pretty and was equipped with two attractive bedsteads.

Then Mary took her down again to the basement where she met the housekeeper, Mrs Bates, a motherly looking woman whom Poppy warmed to straight away. Mrs Bates sat her down and put some food in front of her and then found her a pretty cotton frock to put on. "Get changed and let Mary brush out that lovely hair of yours, my dear," she said. "I'm sure Mr Jennings, the owner of this house, would like to meet you."

And so, up the stairs they went again and Poppy put on the dress and Mary brushed out her hair. The girl was startled when she saw her slightly pointed ears. "Goodness! You're not an elf?" she exclaimed.

Poppy felt embarrassed. Would they hold this against her? "Half-elven," she muttered. "Does it matter?" And for the first time she felt uncomfortable about her heritage and made no mention of her dwarven side.

"Of course it doesn't matter," laughed Mary, pleased with her discovery. "It just makes you look all the cuter." She tweaked Poppy's ear and they both giggled together. Mary pinned back her hair behind one ear with a clip so that the tip was exposed. "There," she said. "That makes you look more interesting."

Mr Jennings was a handsome older man with an elegant mane of white hair. He spoke in a kindly fashion to Poppy and didn't put her on the spot by asking her age or for details of her parentage or for an explanation as to what she was doing on her own in the Grey Havens.

"I do a lot of entertaining in the evenings," he said, "and I like my servants to be pretty and well-trained. Mrs Bates can show you what to do and how to behave if you'd like to work for me." Poppy nodded eagerly and couldn't believe her luck that Mary had noticed her in the market place. She saw Mr Jennings looking at her ear and she blushed in a self-conscious way, but he didn't pass comment.

And so, Poppy spent her first night in Mr Jenning's house. She shared the bedroom with Mary which was great fun and talked with her late into the night until she fell asleep.

.o00o.

Pt III

Thorin spent a restless night at the Silver Bear which was close to the market place and, the next day, he went from stallholder to stallholder asking them if they had seen Poppy. At last, a woman on a fruit stall thought she had noticed a young girl who answered his description. A farm cart had dropped her off and she had stood there looking lost.

"I was quite concerned for the poor little soul," the woman said, " and I was just going to go up to her when she was approached by another young girl. I thought she might be a friend or a relative, so I stopped worrying about her and went back to serving my customers."

"And what did the other girl look like?" asked Thorin eagerly.

"Well, she's very distinctive," said the woman. "She shops here every afternoon and you can't miss her. She's got very bright, red hair – short curls – I'm sure you'll see her if you keep a look out."

And so, Thorin sat on the base of a statue in the centre of the market all afternoon and waited. In the end, his patience was rewarded because he saw Mary shop at various stalls before heading back the way she had come. Thorin felt uneasy and didn't approach her. Instead, he followed her at a distance until he saw her enter quite a grand house.

He waited for five minutes and then walked up the front steps and knocked on the door. The footman who answered took one look at the imposingly arrogant and well-dressed figure in front of him and addressed him politely: "I'm sorry, Master dwarf," he said. "The house does not open until ten this evening."

"I shall return then," murmured Thorin.

What had his daughter got herself into, he thought to himself? He wanted to break down the door and mount an heroic rescue but he guessed the house was well-guarded. Should he ask the elven soldiery to help him? But he as yet had no proof that his daughter was either here or in danger. And so, the only thing he could do was to come back at ten this evening and find out what was going on.

Meanwhile, in the basement of the house, Poppy was receiving instruction from Mrs Bates. The housekeeper was very pleased with Mary's find. "You're a pretty girl," she said, "with a pretty manner and a pretty voice. Now all I need to do is show you how to wait at table and how to please Mr Jennings' gentlemen friends."

Poppy responded well to the flattery and tried hard to learn her lessons.

Her father spent his afternoon shopping for some fine clothes and then went off to the town vaults to withdraw a goodly amount of gold and some expensive jewellery. He had a strong feeling that he would need to look affluent if he wanted to get past the doorman tonight. He returned soon after ten and his rich robes and heavy gold rings gave him entry.

However, a smartly dressed but powerful-looking footman with a broken nose said politely: "I'm sorry, sir, but I do 'ave to check you for weapons before I allow you any further." And, after a quick but effective frisk, the man found the dagger down the side of Thorin's boot.

"Drat!" thought Thorin.

"A good place to hide a dagger," smiled the man as he put it away with some other weapons in a locked hall cupboard.

"Just what my daughter says," laughed Thorin amiably. And the man laughed back.

"You can retrieve it on your exit," he said.

A blaze of light was coming from a room leading off the hall and Thorin wondered what he would find there. He scanned the spacious room and was not surprised to find many tables laid out for gambling – and the favoured games were those designed to part the punter most easily from his money: Sequence, Forty-two, Deep MIdden. He had never been to a gambling hell before, but Thorin was familiar with all the gaming rules. Dwarves were too canny to part easily with their gold but played these games amongst themselves, purely for entertainment.

He settled himself at a Deep Midden table and handed over some gold coins in exchange for which, the dealer, a handsome young man, passed him some ivory playing rings. The play continued in a quiet and desultory manner which gave Thorin plenty of time to look around the room. All of the dealers were young and good-looking and a few of them were women. The punters were all male, a variety of ages, obviously rich men. There were no elves and he was the only dwarf. He saw the odd customer give him a side-long look and, finally, his neighbour, a man in his fifties, said: "We don't see many dwarves here."

"No," replied Thorin pleasantly. "I can imagine you wouldn't. But Deep Midden is my only vice."

"What a pity," laughed the man. "This house caters for many vices here."

Thorin wanted to ask what he meant but decided to remain silent and to keep alert.

The evening passed slowly for him: he won some, he lost some. But, suddenly, he saw the red-headed girl walk past the room out in the hallway. If it hadn't been for her distinctive hair, he would not have recognised her because her plain cotton frock had now been replaced by a fine evening gown and jewels sparkled in her hair. She looked very attractive.

There was a break in play and Thorin murmured to the dealer: "Who is that red-headed girl I've just seen in the hall?"

The young man did not seem surprised by the question but said in Thorin's ear: "You're interested in her, sir?" And Thorin nodded. The dealer slipped away from the table and soon returned with Mrs Bates in tow.

She no longer looked like a housekeeper. Her clothes were elegant and her hair was beautifully styled. She looked very much the fine lady. She was acknowledged by smiles and salutes from the other men at the table and she graciously bent her head to them. Thorin's neighbour said: "A busy evening, Bel?" And she assented with a polite nod.

But she approached Thorin and said quietly, "Would you like to follow me, sir?" And the dwarf, wondering what he had let himself in for, let her lead him from the room.

Earlier that evening, Mary had helped to get Poppy dressed. She was handed a very beautiful gown made of white silk and shot through with silver. It was very simply styled but somehow grown up and Poppy was filled with excitement.

"For me?" she exclaimed when Mary first held it up for her inspection.

"Mr Jennings likes us all to look nice," she said. And, indeed, Mary was looking quite lovely too.

"Can I put my hair up?" Poppy asked.

"No," said Mary. "Mrs Bates thinks it looks beautiful brushed out on your shoulders. It makes you look – young."

Poppy didn't want to look young, but Mary wouldn't let her do her hair any other way and also insisted that she pinned it back behind her ears with silver clips. "I just love your ears," she said.

Then, when they were both ready, she lead her down to a small salon where Mrs Bates, in all her finery, was waiting.

"Mr Jennings is entertaining a small party of friends in the little dining room," she said, "and I want you two girls to serve the food and drink." Then she turned to Poppy. "You're looking very nice, my dear," she added and Poppy felt very pleased with herself. Then when the party called for wine, Mary suggested that Poppy served it, "just to get used to the idea", and the girl, carrying a tray, nervously entered the room.

But there was nothing to worry about, she decided, because everyone was utterly charming and kind to her. Mr Jennings nodded and smiled at her and some of the men seated with him said some very flattering things to her, calling her a pretty child, admiring her hair and even saying that her ears were delightful.

Poppy left the room feeling that this was a really easy and pleasant way to earn her keep and that she had had more fun here in only a day than she had experienced in months at the forge. A moment of guilt shot through her as she wondered if her family were worried about her; but then she decided that a bit of anxiety over her would do them good. Perhaps, when she eventually returned, they would be a lot nicer to her.

She would not have been so self-satisfied if she could have heard the conversation in the room after she had made her exit.

"Absolutely delicious," said one of the guests.

"And only thirteen, you say?" added another.

"And those ears!" remarked a third. "She must be part elf. What a tease!"

"How much?" another asked bluntly.

And they all fell to, negotiating with Mr Jennings around the table.

.o00o.

Pt IV

Mrs Bates led Thorin up the sweeping staircase to a room at the back of the house. It was well-decorated, furnished with tables and chairs and a large four-poster bed in one corner, grandly hung with heavy silk draperies.

"Make yourself comfortable," she said, gesturing to a decanter of wine. "Mary will join you in a moment."

So Thorin sat down, feeling a little apprehensive. Just like the gambling den, this was also unknown territory for him but he knew he was getting closer to finding his daughter. He poured himself a glass of wine and, as he took his first sip, Mary slipped quietly into the room, shutting the door behind her. She was such a pretty girl, thought Thorin, and he was sickened by the trade that had brought her there and panicked by thoughts for the safety of his own daughter.

The light in the room was dim, lit as it was by a handful of candles. Mary was curious to see her new customer because she had never had a dwarf before. They were rare in such places as this and, as far as she could make out, they were a very chaste breed, apparently not usually tempted by the type of vices that beset the men of the town. She wondered what had brought him to this house and had felt a bit worried at first. But, Mrs Bates had reassured her. "I don't think you need be anxious about anything – he's very handsome," she had said as they climbed the stairs. Nor did she ever have any concerns for her safety. All the footmen were security guards, real bruisers, recruited from the back streets of the town. There was one outside the door now and others stationed along the corridors, all ready to come should she let out the smallest scream. She could have finished up in a worse place.

She moved, smiling, across the room. Mrs Bates was right, she thought. He was a very handsome dwarf. And she sat herself upon his lap and stroked his beard. "I thought all dwarves were very pure," she murmured and she gently brushed her lips against his own.

"Not all of us," he replied in a deep baritone and he slid a hand around her waist.

She began to undo his shirt and, slipping a hand inside it, kissed him more forcefully. But Thorin gripped her wrist, stopping her exploring hand from going any further. "I need to ask," he said. "Are you a virgin? You look so young that I imagined you were."

Mary smiled coyly. "Well, I can play the virgin for you," she purred, "if that's what you want."

But, Thorin stood up, putting her from him and said. "No, I'm sorry. That's not good enough. I want the genuine article and I'm willing to pay whatever price this house demands."

Mary felt vaguely disappointed but told Thorin to help himself to another drink whilst she consulted with Mrs Bates. "I think we can find something to suit you, sir," she said.

Downstairs, she spoke with the housekeeper. "You know how rich these dwarves are," she said. "I think he'll pay a huge sum for someone like Poppy." Mrs Bates went off to speak privately with Mr Jennings who was not very happy with the offers he had received so far from his guests. He named his price and she climbed the stairs once more to speak with Thorin. A deal was done immediately and Thorin handed over his gold. He hoped that he was paying for his daughter and not some other poor, lost soul and he sat down in the shadows in the far corner of the room.

He didn't have long to wait. Soon, the footman opened the door and Poppy came into the room, carrying a large tray with a selection of decanters and glasses upon it. She was concentrating on not dropping it and carefully placed it on the table nearest the door. As she did so, the footman locked the door behind her. She heard the click and, startled, she reached for the handle only to find that it wouldn't turn. Her mind raced, trying to work out why the door had been locked and, suddenly, she felt very afraid. Mrs Bates had asked her to serve a guest in this room and now she turned towards him. "What is the meaning of this?" she tried to ask bravely.

"It means," said her father's voice from the shadows, "that they have locked you in with me...So that you cannot escape," he added.

A mixture of relief and anger washed over her. Her father had come to take her away from the most fun she had had in months and he had even persuaded the footmen to cooperate with him.

"What are you doing here, father?" she asked furiously. "And if you think I'm coming with you, then you're wrong."

"Well," he said calmly, "I'm afraid you will have to come with me because I have just bought you … for a very large sum of money."

For a moment, she didn't understand. She was just angry that he was interfering with her life again. But then her eyes widened as his meaning made itself plain. And, suddenly, all sorts of things began to click into place: the kindness of Mr Jennings, the comments of his friends, the pretty dress, the easy tasks. She wondered at her naivety and she raised her hand and pressed it against her lips in horror. Then she was running across the room and throwing herself into her father's arms.

Thorin hugged her back. "Now, the only problem is how we're going to get out of this place," he said. There were guards everywhere; the door was locked and he had no weapon. He looked around the room. He had already tested the window and it was open but they were some way above a paved rear courtyard and the cobbles looked very unforgiving.

But the curtains were secured by beautiful rope tie-backs as were the drapes around the bed. All the drapes and curtains were made of silk – a strong material, he thought. So, with Poppy's help, he tied ropes and curtains together until he thought it would all reach the ground. He climbed out first so that he could test its strength and Poppy came bravely after him whilst he stood below, ready to break her fall if necessary. The side gate to the house was locked, so he then helped his daughter over a wall into a neighbouring garden and, from there, they made their escape.

When they got to the Silver Bear, Poppy was too frightened to stay the night. She wanted to get out of the Grey Havens as quickly as possible, even though it was now into the early hours. But there was a good moon and Thorin thought it would be fine to ride home. And so, he paid his bill and saddled his horse and, swinging Poppy up in front of him, he rode out of town.

It was a good few miles before Poppy gave in to her terror. She began to shake and, burying her face in her father's shoulder, she started to sob. "It's all right," he said gently. "You're safe now. No need to cry."

But Poppy wasn't crying for herself. She was crying for Mary. "I wish you could have saved Mary too," she wept.

Thorin stroked his daughter's hair. "Well, we saved Rose," he tried to console her. "And our family is doing its best to protect everyone in Ered Luin. But, we can't save everyone." And gradually, Poppy stopped crying and fell asleep.

They reached the forge as the dawn came. Thorin helped Poppy down from the horse just as Tauriel threw wide the door. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Dis fetched me," she said. And she wrapped them both in her arms. Dis came to the door then, looking very guilty.

"You naughty person," Thorin said, smiling, and both he and Poppy hugged her tightly.

They all went to bed then for a few hours' sleep. "Well," said Thorin to Tauriel, "at least that's taught her a lesson."

"But I doubt if it's a lasting one," his wife replied. "She's still very young. She can only feel guilty for so long and this will all be forgotten in six months or so. There will still be all those difficult teenage years to get her through."

Thorin sighed. "I really hope you're wrong," he said. "Now I shan't get to sleep for worrying about it."

"Let me help you," giggled Tauriel as she drew him into her arms.

.o00o.


	22. Chapter 22 Thorin and the Lady

Arion is about to leave home. Will Poppy miss him? Can she still wrap Thorin around her little finger? And will Thorin get himself into a bit of a mess when he goes to a party in the Grey Havens without Tauriel? Join the Oakenshields once more for another weekly dose of family fun!

.o00o.

THORIN AND THE LADY

PT I

Arion's eighteenth birthday had come and gone and his bags had been packed for a long time. The day had almost arrived for him to join the troop up at the outpost and he could hardly contain himself. Poppy had groomed and re-groomed Warg, all ready to go, and, although Arion was appreciative of her efforts, she was mainly doing it to keep from herself the realisation that her brother was finally disappearing from her life. The thought was surprisingly painful. They hadn't always got along but, since his escapade in the Grey Havens four years earlier, they had both tried harder with a certain amount of success.

And she would miss Warg too. She spent a lot of her time in the stables with Warg, the horses and with Dog who was getting stiff and old. Dog had missed Rose when she had left for the North after her marriage to Telbarad. He had mooched around for days, picking at his food, until Arion and Poppy had fed him treats by hand and had slept with him and Warg in the stables at night for a few weeks. Almost like old times, Arion had grinned, when it had been difficult to get Dog out of their beds. She guessed his end must be coming but she turned away from the thought, taking him for gentle walks by the river and cuddling him on her lap in front of the fire when the winter came. But, no matter how cold it got, he always went out to the stables to sleep with Warg who had become his last and best friend. How difficult would Dog find things when both Arion and Warg moved away? She wondered if he understood anything of the preparations that were going on about him. He certainly seemed restless and uneasy.

The night before Arion's departure, Thorin and Tauriel lay in each other's arms discussing yet another milestone in their lives. They felt they could cope with Arion leaving more than when they had waved goodbye to Rose. Their adopted daughter was a long way away and they hardly saw her; but Tauriel and possibly Thorin would see Arion once a week. Tauriel was still the captain of the troop and spent a night there every seven days and Thorin was still weapons' master and often went with her to give the elves regular training. Now that Poppy was fourteen, Dis would probably come less often to the forge to hold the fort as she had faithfully done for years and Poppy would also spend time up at the outpost with her parents instead of with her aunt. Thorin was keen for her to be skilled with sword and bow so she could practise with the elves and perhaps, he sighed, she would be tempted to join her brother at the outpost in a few years' time. It was a responsible job and one which would hold the family together. But, she didn't seem to be interested very much in anything yet.

"That daughter of ours frightens me," he grinned.

"And why is that?" Tauriel smiled back.

"Because she's only fourteen but she sometimes behaves as if she's older than me," he answered.

And, undoubtedly, this was true. Her elven blood had given her a certain maturity, both in appearance and manner, and Thorin sometimes felt as if their roles were reversed as she organised him and ordered him around. He had three women in his life, he smiled to himself, and they all seemed to know how to handle him. Poppy's manipulation of him sometimes left him feeling a little uneasy, originating as it did from their spoiling of her as a child; but, he grinned, he certainly didn't object to being handled by Tauriel. And he felt like being handled by her now so he rolled towards her and kissed her, just to give her a bit of encouragement. Tauriel didn't need much encouragement and she caressed him and wound him in her slender arms.

"How many years has it been?" he asked.

"Nearly nineteen," she said. "And you're still a fine figure of a dwarf," she giggled, nestling into him.

And Thorin didn't need much encouragement either.

.o00o.

They set out for the farmhouse high in the hills the next day. Thorin and Poppy rode their horses, Arion was on Warg, Tauriel drove the trap with Dog on a soft blanket and all Arion's gear in the rear, while Magpie, who would also be stabled at the outpost, came trotting along behind.

When they arrived, Lostwithiel and all the elves who were not on duty turned out to give Arion a cheer. He knew them very well by now and was comfortable in their company but he blushed at the warmth of their welcome. There was a lot of manly back-slapping for Arion and Thorin, a bit of smart saluting for Tauriel and some elegant hand-kissing for Poppy. She had always liked this and had never felt embarrassed like Rose, receiving their kisses as graciously as they were given. Thorin noticed her graceful manner and shook his head at his daughter's sophistication. "Well, she doesn't get it from me," he muttered to Tauriel.

Arion moved into one of the guest units next to the old stables. "I want to be close to Warg," he said, "in case he causes trouble until he's settled down." Poppy slept in the unit next to his and Thorin squeezed himself onto Tauriel's narrow bed. His wife's back was pressed against the wall and Thorin was on the edge of the mattress.

"You're not too squashed, are you?" he asked.

"Squash away," she murmured. "You're making me feel very desirable."

"You're always desirable," he replied in his deep, dark voice. "I don't need a narrow bed to persuade me that I want to be close to you." And he pressed even closer.

.o00o.

The next day, Tauriel took over the troop whilst Lostwithiel planned to go down to the Grey Havens on a couple of days' leave. This would give Arion the opportunity to practise seeing his mother as his captain which Tauriel was sure would be a difficult mental exercise for him.

Poppy tucked herself under Lostwithiel's arm. "What will you do in the town, 'Thiel," she asked. The elf lord gave her a hug. Poppy knew he still saw her as a child even though she already looked very grown-up. But she guessed that the time would come when he would see her differently, just as he had eventually fallen for Rose. She was very, very fond of him and thought him very good-looking. But there was still Roger, of course. He could offer her so much more in the way of comfort and stylish living. She thought she was in love with Lostwithiel and only felt friendship for Roger but she was a pragmatic girl and knew there were things that Roger could give her that the elf couldn't – or wouldn't. If only Lostwithiel would return to the life of a courtier down in the Grey Havens then things would be different. She wanted to keep her options open until she knew how it would all play out.

"Roger's father is holding a big party," said Lostwithiel. "Six of his trading ships have all come home at the same time and he's feeling pretty generous."

Poppy looked excited and turned to her father. "Can't we go too?" she asked. "Roger's father has a soft spot for me and I'm sure he'd be pleased if we turned up. Mother doesn't really want us here. She needs to establish a working relationship with Arion and I think we're just in the way."

Thorin smiled indulgently. "You're probably right, Poppy. We'll leave her to it for two days while we go and have fun in the town with Lostwithiel."

"It's best if we go straight there," said Poppy, "rather than make a diversion to the forge to pick up some clothes. Let's buy some new clothes in the Grey Havens instead," she wheedled. "I really could do with a new party frock."

"As if you go to so many parties, you've worn out the ones you've got," Thorin grumbled. But he succumbed to her suggestion after a hug and a kiss.

Which is why, when he and Lostwithiel and Poppy turned up on Barnaby Waller's doorstep along with the town's finest, his daughter was looking very nice indeed.

"And you look very nice too, father," she whispered in an attempt to make him feel that the gold he had parted with that afternoon had been money well spent.

Thorin looked at his daughter and felt he had to approve. She was dressed in a gown of the palest, palest blue with tiny flowers embroidered around the neck-line. For some reason, although her hair was gold and Rose's hair was black, he was reminded of his adopted daughter. Perhaps it was because the curls fell halfway down her back; perhaps it was because she carried herself with such confidence and poise; or perhaps it was because whenever either of his daughters entered a room, they seemed to outshine every other girl there. And Poppy was only fourteen. What a head-turner she would be in a few years' time, Thorin thought proudly.

Thorin himself looked very striking and handsome in a new grey outfit. He also turned heads as he walked by but, after his still-remembered experiences with the ladies of this town, Thorin was determined to sit quietly in a corner, drinking a cup of wine in the shadows where he could keep an eye on his daughter. "Are you going to sing for us tonight, Thorin?" asked Lostwithiel with a grin, having witnessed the effect that his singing had had on the assembled company all those years ago. Thorin raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him and the elf lord laughed and said, "Perhaps not."

The important personages of the town stood around looking important. The young people danced and sang and played games. Some of the ladies recognised Thorin from that memorable evening when he had melted their hearts with his deliciously deep voice as he had played a harp and sung a dwarven song. Most of them had not seen him since and so they made their way eagerly towards him. But his manner was so cool that they soon gave up and looked around the room for more entertaining companions.

All except one. She was a shy, pretty lady, perhaps thirty or so, small and slight of figure. "I remember that night you sang to us," she said. "I was only a young girl and I have never forgotten it." And then she looked embarrassed and continued: "But I can imagine that you may feel this is an imposition, me just walking up to you and talking to you like this. But, I wanted to tell you how much pleasure you gave the whole room that night." And she looked very uncomfortable and began to edge away.

Thorin felt sorry for her then and called her back. "No," he said. "I'm being very rude. I'm pleased to hear that you enjoyed my inexpert performance." And he gestured to her to sit next to him.

She sat down with shining eyes and said in her soft, sweet voice: "Oh, no! You are too modest. Your singing and harp playing were more beautiful than anything that I have ever heard, even from the elves."

Thorin laughed. "That's what my wife says. But I always thought she was biased."

"Ah, yes," she replied with a gentle smile, "your wife, Tauriel. She is a really lovely woman. You must be very happy with her."

Thorin's face softened. "Yes, I am very happy and she is, indeed, very lovely. It is kind of you to say so."

And so they chatted easily on. She introduced herself as Margaret, the daughter of a magistrate in the town. And Thorin told her all about his children and Tauriel's work up at the outpost and about some of the more respectable moments of their journey to Mirkwood and back again before Poppy was born.

"Which one is Poppy?" she asked. And he pointed to her proudly. She was behaving herself and was dancing gracefully with a handsome young friend of Roger's. "What an extraordinarily pretty child," Margaret said. And Thorin began to think that this woman was a very pleasant companion.

.o00o.

Pt II

After her husband and daughter had left for the Grey Havens that morning, Tauriel began to get her men into order. No-one had been out on night patrol and they were all present for the day's exercise. They lined up for inspection, including Arion in his new uniform, and she walked along the line. Arion couldn't help but grin when he saw his mother marching down the line towards him, her face stern, but she stopped in front of him and said, "Wipe that smile off your face, soldier. This is a serious job we have to do up here."

He had a sudden urge to say, "Oh, come on, mother. Stop pretending to be fierce." But then he looked in her eyes and realised that she did rather frighten him a little and he bit his tongue. Tauriel felt a moment of relief when he straightened both his back and his face. She really hadn't relished tearing him off a strip in front of the others and she could already see an amused glint in their eyes as they remembered their first totally unprepared day with her. But the morning of archery practice passed uneventfully and she was pleased to see that Arion acquitted himself well.

After a mid-day meal, Tauriel told them of her plan to help Warg integrate with both the men and their horses. "It's no use," she said, "having this potentially lethal weapon in our midst if the horses are too frightened to work with him." And she guessed that, even though they were all familiar with Warg after Arion's regular trips to the outpost over the years, some of the elves were still nervous in the creature's presence.

She got them all to line up in a well-spaced row, holding their steeds firmly by their bridles. And then she told Arion to lead Warg up and down the row, weaving in and out between them. At first he kept a distance from each of them but, each time he passed by, he moved in closer and closer until Warg's fur brushed both the horses and the elves. Dog trotted after Warg and his presence seemed to be a reassurance both to animals and men.

At first, the horses were spooked. They flinched and tossed their heads and strained to break away. But the elves spoke soothingly to them and, when Warg remained passive and did nothing to alarm them, they slowly calmed down. Then Tauriel got her men to mount and they had to hold their animals steady as Warg passed by, closer and closer, this time with Arion on his back. Again, they were twitchy at first but, eventually, they stood there as if Warg were merely another horse.

Then Tauriel took them, six at a time, into the neighbouring field and told them to walk then trot then canter up and down in random patterns with Warg in their midst. After an hour or so of this, everyone had to admit that Warg's integration seemed a success.

They paused for a short rest and then Tauriel said that she wanted to take some of them out into the neighbouring hills for a good gallop with Arion and his pet and, if this went off without incident, she would be happy to include Warg on their patrols. She chose Challis and Lithin and Borondin to accompany them and then they set off, expecting only to be gone for a few hours.

For the first hour, they galloped at speed through the attractive hilly area north of the farmhouse until at last they reached the brow of a hill and paused for a rest. Challis had noticed how, all the time, Arion seemed to be keeping Warg in check so that his pace would match their own. "How much faster can he go?" she asked.

"Perhaps we'd better have a trial," said Tauriel, and she pointed to a clump of trees about two miles away on a neighbouring hill.

"A race!" grinned Arion.

"Yes," smiled Tauriel. "We shall all set off together and see how big a gap opens up between us and Warg."

It was really exciting and Arion felt elated as he pulled further and further ahead of the elves who, in the end, were a long way behind. But, as he approached the clump of trees, he suddenly dragged Warg to a skidding halt. For, out of the shadow, there loped two warg-riders, orcs mounted on their dark brown steeds. They came to a halt too and grinned evilly, eyeing Warg covetously because he was huge in comparison to their own.

For the first time, Arion became aware of just how large Warg was. All that good food when he was young, he thought. Then the arrogance of youth possessed him and, looking at the scrawny orcs and the comparative size of the creatures they rode upon, he drew his sword, confident in his victory over them and urged Warg into the attack. But the enemy wargs suddenly let out a strange, strangled cry and, to Arion's horror, Warg refused to move. The smaller creatures continued to make guttural sounds which, to Arion's ears sounded almost like human speech but not quite. Then, to his amazement, Warg responded and yowled back. He kicked his mount again and tried to urge him forward once more, but Warg suddenly reared and twisted his body so that Arion went tumbling off onto the ground.

The orcs laughed. "I'm surprised, little boy, that you thought you could control a warg," said one in a sneering voice; and they both drew their bows and aimed them at Arion who was still lying on the ground. But before they could loose their arrows, there was a distant cry and a whistling sound on the wind as four feathered shafts cut through the air and struck both orcs to the ground. Arion turned and saw his mother and her men approaching, still at a distance, but their hours of practice at the butts had, thankfully, paid off.

Riding closer, Tauriel shot another arrow which hit the shoulder of one of the enemy wargs and it turned and bounded away into the wood with the other close behind it. Arion scrambled to his feet and called to Warg, but his pet turned, looked at him once and then ran into the trees. Arion stood frozen to the spot, completely dumbfounded.

His mother came riding up and he turned to her with wide, stricken eyes. Tauriel pulled her son up behind her on her horse and they all searched for a while, calling his name. But there was no response and Tauriel wondered if they would ever see Arion's pet again.

At last, he leaned against his mother's shoulder and he wept, not caring what the others thought. "He's gone," he said.

"Yes," said Tauriel gently. "Perhaps it has been a lonely existence for him and the call of his own kind was stronger than his love for you."

And, slowly, they rode back to the outpost.

When they got back to the farmhouse, the rest of the troop expressed shock and sympathy and Arion derived some comfort from this. But, suddenly, their kind words were interrupted by a terrible howling from the stables.

"Dog!" exclaimed Arion. "I had forgotten all about him." And then he turned to his mother and said: "He knows." And he went out to comfort him.

But Dog was inconsolable. He refused to eat but whimpered and howled all evening. In the end, Arion went out to spend the night in the barn with him and, eventually, both fell asleep.

As the dawn came, the whole farmhouse was roused early by the sound of frantic hooves. They all dragged on some clothing and rushed out into the yard. There, looking pale and tired and drawn, was Lostwithiel. He searched amongst the faces crowding about him until he found Tauriel's. "It's Thorin," he said. And she nodded her head as if she already knew.

.o00o.

Pt III

Back at the party, the previous night, Poppy was still having a good time and Thorin and Margaret were still chatting amiably together. But Lostwithiel had noticed how closely they were sitting and how their heads were bent together and nearly touched. And he didn't like it. Ever since his naughty moment with Tauriel just after Arion was born, when the troop had been first set up, his guilt had been such that he was over-protective towards her. And now he watched Thorin with this woman convinced that something not quite right was happening.

"What are you looking at, 'Thiel?" asked Poppy as she slid an arm quietly around his waist.

At first, he wasn't going to say anything but then he couldn't resist remarking: "Look over there. What do you think your father is up to?"

Poppy watched Thorin and Margaret for some time and her brow furrowed: "I'm not quite sure, but I don't like it." And the two of them stood there and carried on watching suspiciously.

Margaret, in fact, was about to take her leave. "Thank you so much, Thorin, for keeping me company," she said in her low, sweet voice, "but I must look for my father. He's probably wondering where I have got to." And she smiled and rose to her feet. Thorin got to his feet too but, as she stood, she suddenly swayed and put her hand to her forehead.

Concerned, Thorin took her by the elbow and asked solicitously, "Are you feeling all right?"

"Oh," she said faintly. "I'm so sorry but the room appears to be turning. It's rather hot in here, isn't it? But I'm sure I shall be all right in a moment." And she gave him an apologetic smile.

"Shall I fetch you a drink?" asked Thorin but she shook her head.

"Perhaps if you could just help me to that window for a breath of fresh air," she murmured and she gestured to the windows that led out onto a wide balcony.

Thorin gently took her outside and she leaned on the railing taking deep breaths of the cool night air.

"So kind of you," she said quietly. "I think I may be ready to go now." And she turned towards him and gave him her hand with a warm smile. But, as he took it, she swayed again and fell upon his broad chest.

Thorin was worried. She seemed so tiny and fragile as she lay there and he thought it would be best if he could lead her to a seat and then get some help. He supported her by her arms but her head still drooped upon his chest.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked. "Is there anything or anyone you need?"

"Yes," she whispered and she drooped even more heavily in his arms and he was forced to hold her to his breast. "I need you."

Thorin stiffened. He was being pursued again and he hadn't even realised it. The guile of this woman was amazing. He took her by the shoulders and tried to set her away from him but she clung to him and said in a strange voice that was both quiet and firm: "I want you to listen to what I have to say and not interrupt me until I have finished. Will you do that?"

For a moment, Thorin wondered if he had misunderstood the situation and he decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. "Tell me," he said.

Poppy and Lostwithiel, meanwhile, had seen Thorin and Margaret disappear together out onto the balcony. Poppy indignantly made to follow but Lostwithiel grasped her arm and held her back.

"We need to tread carefully here," he said. "If they're talking about something important, they won't appreciate it if you just go barging in. You'll be in trouble. Let's give them five minutes first and then you and I can casually saunter out onto the balcony ourselves and see what's going on."

Poppy hesitated and then nodded her head in agreement.

Thorin was listening to Margaret, who continued to talk in her quiet, sweet voice. "I was only sixteen when I first saw you sing that night. You brought my heart up into my mouth and I loved you from that moment. Can you imagine what it has been like all these years? I think about you every waking moment and dream about you every night - when I manage to get to sleep, that is."

Her arms went about him even more tightly and her voice murmured against his breast so that he could hardly catch what she was saying.

"I used to attend every dance, every feast, every social gathering in the hope that I would see you again, but I never did. I hated those parties but my father thought I was a bit of a flibbertigibbet and decided that it was time I was married. He introduced me to endless young men and some of them even asked for my hand. But, none of them lived up to my image of you and I was involved in many embarrassing scenes and many violent arguments with my father."

Thorin put his hand under her chin and raised her face so that he could look down in her eyes. "But, surely," he said gently, "you know that I love my wife and that you have no hope?"

"Yes," she sighed, "I know that this is a hopeless love. I also know that I have lived in pain for 15 years and that this passion must be resolved because I cannot stand to live like this any longer."

And, as she said this, she stepped away from him and let fall from her sleeve a long, sharp stiletto. "I am going to end it now," she said calmly.

Thorin put up his hand to stop her. "Margaret, don't hurt yourself. I'm not worth it. You're young and life is too wonderful to throw it away."

She gave a strange laugh and said, "I know that life could be wonderful if only you would let me experience it. But how can I enjoy life when you are always there tormenting me?"

And she suddenly stepped forward and brought the knife down upon him in a glittering arc.

Thorin was stunned at this unexpected attack but he managed to ward off the blow and the knife pierced his forearm. She was small but strong and the knife attack had been launched with all the strength of her being. Thorin was knocked to the floor and Margaret lifted the stiletto again for a death blow. But her wrist was seized from behind and she was spun around by a screaming fury with long, golden curls who tried to wrench the knife from her grasp.

Poppy and Lostwithiel had stood aghast by the doors of the balcony, witnessing the attack upon the dwarf. It had been so sudden. One moment Margaret had been nestled in Thorin's arms; the next, the knife was out and she had struck him to the floor. Lostwithiel was behind Poppy so the girl had got there first and, before the elf could do anything to help, Margaret had turned her anger upon Poppy and, in a last surge of frenzy, suddenly drove the stiletto through the girl's breast. Lostwithiel seized the knife then and, snatching it from the woman's grasp, cast it across the room. A number of the guests came running to his aid and, pinioning the now struggling and weeping Margaret by her arms, dragged her away.

Thorin pulled himself to his feet, his arm streaming blood and managed to half stagger, half crawl to the side of his prostrate daughter. "Get the physician!" he cried to Lostwithiel in an anguished voice.

.o00o.

Lostwithiel had ridden with all speed to fetch Tauriel up at the farmhouse. "It's Thorin," he said as they all rushed out to meet him in the early dawn. "And Poppy," he added, knowing how dreadful the news would be.

"Poppy!" gasped Tauriel, a confused look coming into her eyes.

"A mad woman attacked Thorin and Poppy tried to save him," said the elf lord, taking Tauriel's hands and squeezing them. "Thorin received a knife wound in the arm – don't worry – he's all right – but the woman stabbed Poppy in the chest and she's still unconscious. Thorin sent me to fetch both you and Arion."

In a daze, Tauriel looked up at Lostwithiel. "Rose... Rose should be with her too. If anything should happen..." And her voice drifted into silence. The elf lord arranged for Borondin to scour the North for Rose. She might arrive too late but at least they would have tried.

Tauriel gathered her things together while Arion saddled Magpie and got the trap ready for his mother. They would need it for Dog who was still miserable and lethargic this morning. There was no way he was going to leave Dog behind and he was afraid that his pet was going to die too. And suddenly all the woes of the world seemed to be falling upon the lad's shoulders. In a tense little band and with the concern and best wishes from the rest of the troop ringing in their ears, Tauriel, Arion and Lostwithiel set out for the Grey Havens.

.o00o.

Pt IV

When Tauriel and Arion reached Roger's mansion, Thorin was sitting on the steps waiting for them. His left arm was bandaged and strapped across his chest and his face was grey and drawn. "She's still unconscious," he told her as he lifted his wife down from the trap with his good arm. And then he shut his eyes and held her to his breast. Somehow, he thought, all would be well now that Tauriel had come.

But nothing changed. Poppy had been tucked up in a beautiful bedchamber. The pristine white linen was pulled up to her chin and she lay there with her eyes closed, her face as blanched and as white as the linen. The physician had been several times and was keeping her lightly sedated. "Don't expect her to wake up yet," he had said. And so, they took turns to keep watch over her, sometimes in pairs, sometimes in small groups.

Thorin sat in the bedroom with Tauriel. He gently stroked his daughter's hair and told his wife what had happened. "Her name was Margaret and she seemed like a perfectly ordinary young woman - very quiet and sweet-natured. And because she seemed so shy, I decided to be kind to her and keep her company." He sighed. "I was being lazy, I suppose," he said. "It just seemed so much easier to talk to this woman in a quiet corner than to circulate and be forced into conversations with people I didn't like."

Tauriel came from where she was standing at the foot of the bed and put an arm around his shoulder. He took her hand in his own and said quietly: "Sit on my lap and rest. You must be exhausted."

She had been wanting to do just that since she had first entered the room but she was worried about his injured arm. However, Thorin reached for her and she sat down and leaned her head upon his broad chest and closed her eyes. "Tell me what happened next," she said.

"Well, after a while, this woman finally made ready to go but, as she stood, she said she felt dizzy." Thorin pulled a face. "I suspected nothing," he said. "And then we went out onto the balcony for a breath of fresh air and that's when she leaned against me and told me that she had loved me for years."

Tauriel's eyes widened in disbelief. "Yes, I know," said her husband. "It rather took me aback too. And when she started to tell me about all the years of hopeless love she had endured, I suddenly realised that she was a bit mad."

"But why didn't you get help at that point?" asked Tauriel.

"Because I'm a stupid dwarf and I thought I could handle her with a bit of kindness," he grimaced. "But then she drew a knife and I thought she was going to kill herself." He looked at his daughter lying so still on the bed. "How could I get things so wrong?"

Tauriel put her hand up to his face and touched him gently; and then she kissed him. "How could you have known what was in her mind?" she said.

"But that's the whole point," he groaned. "I didn't know and I jumped to the wrong conclusions. And then she tried to kill me. I was on the ground and when she came at me again, Poppy rushed up behind her and seized her. But the woman was possessed and she turned on Poppy and stabbed her. Lostwithiel grabbed her then and it was all over." He looked at Tauriel with a wry grin. "I do wish that wretched elf would stop saving my life. I owe him enough already." And she kissed him again. "The physician came then. It's a serious wound and he has promised to attend her regularly."

"And what does he think?" asked Tauriel anxiously.

"He doesn't know what to think," said Thorin. "We have to wait and see."

"I've sent Borondin up North to see if he can find Rose," Tauriel said and Thorin's heart lifted a little. It would help them all to have Rose with them.

"And what has happened to Margaret?" asked Tauriel.

"She's with the elves," he said. "They will look after her in a kindly fashion but she cannot be released."

And so they sat there quietly together until, at last, she fell asleep on his breast. They had sat in the bed chamber for hours and so Thorin gently lifted his wife in one powerful arm and took her to their own room next door where he laid her on their bed and pulled a coverlet over her. After that, he went to find Arion, Roger and Lostwithiel and asked them to take over for a few hours so that he also could get some sleep.

And that was how the next few days continued. Poppy was no longer sedated but she showed no sign of stirring; and now a fever was developing. Thorin and Tauriel continued to exchange places with the elf and the two young men; and the doctor visited constantly and attempted to reassure them.

Roger stood moodily by Poppy's bedroom window while Arion and Lostwithiel sat by her bed. He was very upset. He had loved Rose and this was Rose's sister. On top of that, the attack had happened in his home. He felt somehow responsible as if he could have prevented it. He had been dancing with Poppy earlier in the evening and she had wanted to continue. But he had said he was too tired and that's when she had drifted over to Lostwithiel and had got herself entangled in the fracas between Margaret and Thorin. If only they had carried on dancing, Lostwithiel would have sorted it out without her getting in the way.

He glanced over at the bed. She was a beautiful child and he couldn't help but sigh at her long, golden curls spread out on the pillow. She was like her sister – and yet different. She already had a sophisticated elegance that Rose had never attained – and hadn't wanted either. She mixed comfortably with his family and his friends and his father thought her wonderful – lots of potential, he had said vaguely once. He had often caught her hobnobbing happily with his father in a corner, making him laugh and holding onto his arm in a charmingly friendly way. "She'll be a real beauty in a few years' time," he had said, knowingly. "Some young man will be lucky to get her. Nothing like her sister, I'm very glad to say." And he had given Roger a hard look.

But, in fact, she WAS like Rose. She felt passionately about her parents and had Rose's courage too. And her long, curly hair reminded him of that of her sister's, even if it was as golden as Rose's was black. Roger suddenly realised how much he liked her and how frightened he was that she was going to die.

Lostwithiel sat by the bed, holding Poppy's limp hand and having similar thoughts. She was so beautiful and was far too young to die. He had always had a problem with death, like most elves. It seemed unnatural to die and when it happened – and he was thinking here of the great pile of elven dead at the Battle of the Five Armies – his brain seemed to go into shock. How could this young girl, so full of life only a few days ago, just – stop? His head hurt with thinking about it. If only he hadn't pointed out Thorin's apparent interest in Margaret to her. Then she would have gone off for another dance with some handsome young lad and he would have dealt with the attack on Thorin all by himself. And, successfully, he was sure. He had always been so close to Poppy and now she was lying there, teetering on the brink of something he just didn't understand. And he could offer no comfort to her parents or sibling either.

He looked across the bed at Arion who seemed to be sitting in some kind of a daze. In fact, Arion's daze consisted mainly of guilt. He had that awful feeling that his sister was about to die before he could make things up to her. He spoke to her in his head, saying sorry for all sorts of things but mainly for never taking her seriously and always undervaluing her. Rose had been his life. For nearly as far back as he could remember, this older sister had always been there and he had loved her fiercely. People used to say that they were joined at the hip - and this was true. But, when Poppy was born, he could find no place for his new little sister in his affections or his life. She was just a nuisance, always in the way, and he was only just beginning to realise how brutally he had rejected her. No wonder she had often been so difficult. And yet, she was a brave little thing and she had saved their father from death. But, as a reward, she now lay dying herself. All he could think was that it would be all right when Rose came because Rose always knew what to do.

His father came in then and relieved him and Roger. And it was, indeed, a relief. He didn't want to sit and watch his sister slowly die.

Thorin nodded to Lostwithiel and put down a lunch tray. The two of them pushed around the food in silence. They were both eaten up with grief and exhaustion and there was nothing to say. Thorin took Arion's seat and picked up Poppy's hand. "Not much change," said Lostwithiel, "but I think the fever's getting worse."

Thorin gently squeezed Poppy's damp and limp hand, wondering if she were aware of him. She was the daughter of his heart, the child he thought he would never have. And now she was slipping away from him. In spite of all his silly spoiling, she had begun, in recent years, to rise above both this and her obvious jealousy of the relationship that existed between Arion and Rose. She was turning into a daughter he could like and be proud of and not one that he merely loved.

And so their vigil slowly dragged on until more than a week had passed. The physician paid yet another visit and, this time, he looked worried. "She's just not making any progress," he said, "and the fever seems to be getting a stronger grip. The wound is infected and none of my potions or pills are having any effect." He touched Tauriel lightly on the arm. "We can only hope," he said.

Poppy was no longer pale and cold but hot and flushed; and it seemed to those who watched that this was even worse than the pallor. At last, late one night, there was a thunder of hooves in the courtyard and the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Thorin and Tauriel were on duty in the bed chamber and stood up expectantly. And Rose was in the room at last. She embraced them both tightly and then said: "I have not come alone. I have brought help."

Into the room came Telbarad and another Ranger. This one looked very young but Thorin guessed he must be about thirty. Like all Rangers, he was grim-faced and serious. Like Telbarad, he had dishevelled brown hair and a short beard. "This is Estel," said Telbarad. "He is a herb-master and he needs to examine Rose."

But Thorin stood in his way and rumbled: "You are little more than a youth. Why should I trust you when the best physician in the Grey Havens has made no progress?"

The young man answered calmly: "It is because your best doctors have made no progress that you will have to trust me." And he walked past Thorin and started to examine Poppy who still lay unmoving on the bed.

Estel took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, opening up a bag of medicinal plants and asking for water to be boiled and for clean cloths to be brought to him. But he also took Poppy by the hands and, shutting his eyes, began to tremble as if he struggled with an invisible power.

Thorin stepped forward. "What is he doing?" he snarled. But Telbarad took him firmly by his shoulder and whispered in his ear: "Don't you understand? He has the hands of a healer."

Thorin looked startled and wondered if he did, actually, fully understood what Telbarad was saying. "But, the old wives say that only one person has the hands of a healer..."

"Yes," said Rose gently, "and he has come. And you must tell no-one. He has come as a favour to me, to save my sister."

And so, the young Ranger sweated and laboured for the next few hours until, suddenly, Poppy let out a moan and finally began to move restlessly on her pillow. Estel spoke softly to her and eventually she fell into a natural sleep. He changed the dressings on her wound and stepped back, looking exhausted. "I think she will be all right," he said, "after she has slept through this night."

Tauriel thanked him and bowed over his hand. And Thorin thanked him gruffly too and wiped a tear of relief from his eye. "You have put yourself in danger for my daughter," he said, "and I have no words."

Estel gave him a lop-sided smile. "Well, then, master dwarf, if you have no words then you can buy me a round if you should ever see me at the Prancing Pony in Bree. There, I go under the name of Strider." And he clapped him on the shoulder.

Rose stepped forward then and said that Estel and Telbarad had to go but that she would stay for a few days so that she could see Arion and Lostwithiel and make sure that Poppy was truly recovered the next morning. And then her husband and the young man departed.

In the middle of the night, Arion and Lostwithiel and Roger got up from their beds to do their shift by Poppy's bed. And their joy was two-fold when they found not only Rose in the bed chamber but also Poppy sleeping quietly with her fever gone.

"What on earth caused this change in her?" asked Arion in amazement.

"Oh," said Rose casually, "Telbarad brought a Ranger friend with him who has a considerable knowledge of herb lore and he knew exactly what to do."

"Thank goodness," said Lostwithiel and, although they were all exhausted, none of them would retire but sat around Poppy's bed, dozing in their chairs or sleeping with their heads on the coverlet.

At last, the morning came and Poppy opened her eyes. "Can I have a drink?" she said. And she made a steady recovery from that moment onwards.

The physician was taken aback too. "This is so unexpected," he said. "I wish I could have spoken with your Ranger and shared some of his herb-lore."

Later that day, while Poppy was taking a nap, Tauriel, Thorin and Rose chatted quietly in a corner of her room. "Estel was brought up in Elrond's household from the age of two. His mother died at Rivendell and he only discovered his true destiny ten years ago."

"I'm surprised we didn't see him there when we stayed with Elrond on our way to and from Mirkwood," Tauriel said. "And he must have been a young lad when Arion was born and I was pregnant in Rivendell for nearly a year."

"He might have been with his grandmother in Lothlorien," said Rose, "or Elrond might have kept him out of your sight. It was important that no-one knew who or where he was."

"The hands of the King are the hands of a healer, and so shall the rightful king be known," mused Thorin. "A king without a throne. I know just how he must feel."

"He is the last of his line," said Rose, "and no-one must know until he is ready to come into his own. It might be years yet."

"I would like to see it," said Thorin, "but perhaps I shall not live so long." And Tauriel reached out and took him by the hand.

.o00o.

Rose left a cordial that she said would help Dog's poor old bones before she set off a day later. He had been very pleased to see her and had cheered up considerably. She had also tended Thorin's wound and that had improved too.

Tauriel lay in bed with her husband and gently stroked his bandaged arm. "I miss Rose so much," she said, "but her work in the North is important to all of us and she seems very happy."

"We all miss her," said Thorin. "But, as long as I have you..." he added and he kissed her tenderly.

"Make love to me, Thorin," she said. "Death has been very near to us this past week and I want you to wipe the fear from my mind."

He took her gently in his arms, caressing her hair and murmuring in her ear. And he made love to her into the night until all her fears were wiped away and they both fell deeply asleep.

.o00o.


	23. Chapter 23 Thorin and His Daughter

I see from my stats that a lot of people are following these stories and I would like to thank those of you who have commented on them. I write only to give others pleasure and it's always great to hear back from you.

And so, after that fright in the previous story, Thorin is about to experience another one. Will his children ever stop running rings around him? And will Poppy, like Rose, find the man/elf of her dreams?

THORIN AND HIS DAUGHTER

PT I

Thorin was having a few quiet moments down by the river. Tauriel was doing her duty up at the outpost and Poppy was in the stables grooming Rosie Girl, so Thorin had brought his lunch down to the river bank to eat his food in the sun. He was leaning his back against a willow and he could see fish darting just below the water whilst dragonflies skimmed the surface. It was a lovely place to be and the family had been lucky to call it home.

Not that Poppy was appreciating it much at the moment. She was sixteen now and the forge at the crossroads seemed a long way from the fun and frivolity of the Grey Havens. Thorin would only allow her into town to see her friends if he could accompany her and then he would insist on sitting in a corner of the inn where they were all meeting up for a sociable evening or at the mansion where a party was being held or under a tree at the end of a beach where she might be attending a picnic so that he could keep his eye on her and make sure she didn't get into any trouble.

"For goodness' sake, father," she would say. "Don't you trust me?"

"No," he would respond brusquely. "And I don't trust any of your friends either!"

"But I feel such a fool with you breathing down my neck," she would complain tetchily. "And you really cramp everyone's style."

"Good," was his response. "Most of your friends are much too old for you, and if they want the company of a sixteen year old girl, then they must put up with her father too."

"Well, if you carry on like this," she snapped, "I shan't have any friends and then I shall be stuck out here with nothing to do and nowhere to go." And she had flounced out of the room.

Thorin was pondering this conversation and others like it as he ate his bread and cheese. The biggest problem really was her friendship with Roger. He had been Rose's friend and then that friendship had moved on to Arion and now Poppy had inherited it too. Both Rose and Roger were 26 but he had grown close to Poppy when she had been an invalid in his home for some weeks after she had been stabbed during a party when a mad woman had tried to kill Thorin and Poppy had tried to protect him.

That was two years ago and Roger had been an admirable nurse. He had sat with her and he had read to and chatted with her. He had run around, fetching her trays of food and brushing her hair and trotting off on errands. Thorin and Tauriel were always there somewhere and it hadn't occurred to Thorin then that his daughter was anything more to Roger than a little girl who had been badly hurt or that Roger wasn't just a kind young man who was involved in looking after Poppy because he had been in love with Rose and was a friend of Arion.

But a strong friendship began to emerge from the sickroom, not just between Roger and Poppy but between Poppy and Roger's father. Barnaby Waller had lost a little daughter when she had been only five years old. She had had golden curls like Poppy and when Barnaby looked at her he liked to imagine that she was his daughter returned to him. And perhaps she could be his daughter, he thought, if only Roger would pull his socks up and see what a superb addition to the family Poppy could be. And, in recent months, Roger had, indeed, begun to pull his socks up and was now considering Poppy as a potential bride rather than as Rose's little sister.

"I want to speak bluntly to you, Roger," his father had said. "You're my only child and down to inherit all my wealth. You're of an age to marry now and to give me some grandchildren so that I know the inheritance is secure."

And Roger had nodded. He understood his duty.

"Now, this Poppy. She's a lovely girl and one I would be pleased to see you marry. She'll inherit quite a bit from her father in the end and she's just the sort to make a proper hostess in the Waller home. She's beautiful; she's charming; she's gracious. I don't think you'll find better this side of the Misty Mountains."

Roger had to admit that his father was probably right, "But I don't see, father, how I can ever court her or get to know her as a potential bride rather than a friend with Thorin breathing down our necks all the time. I've never even kissed her."

Barnaby could see his problem and told his son he would think on it.

Thorin suspected that Poppy was getting closer to Roger and this was why he tagged along whenever she went into town. She was only sixteen and not old enough, in his opinion, to take boys seriously.

Tauriel had also wondered if her husband were following Poppy too closely but Thorin was adamant. "Arion got into a lot of trouble when he spent that time with Roger; and then I took my eyes off Rose for five seconds," he said to his wife, "and she was down on the river-bank up to no good with Telbarad. And I'm not going to let it happen to Poppy. She's younger and a lot sillier than Rose and she'll get into mischief the minute she has half a chance."

"You might just as well chain us together at the wrist," Poppy had complained sullenly on one occasion.

"Don't put ideas in my head," her father had rumbled.

Poppy had wanted to remind him of that time in the Grey Havens when she had been in Thorin's company and she had been attacked because of him. But she had bitten her tongue. There had been a real to-do, so Rose and Arion had told her, just before her birth when Thorin had decided that he was a dangerous person to be with and tried to ship them all off to Rivendell without him.

Well, perhaps Rivendell would be a nice place to move to, she sometimes thought. She liked elves and she was half-elven herself. She had only met Elrond once at Rose's wedding and he had seemed quite delightful; and her siblings had entertained her with stories of the fun they had had with him. But, the thought of moving away from her beloved father put the lid on that idea.

Her relationship with Thorin was intense but edgy. She loved him very much and by far the very worst moment of her life was when she had seen that woman attack him and she thought he was going to die. And the anger she had felt when Arion had hit him and she had found him bleeding on the ground... She could quite easily have strangled her brother at that moment.

It had been so easy when she was a little girl and she could wrap him around her finger – just like she could most men such as Lostwithiel, the other elves at the outpost, Roger and his father. She was so pretty and had such pretty ways that they all succumbed to her wheedling. But, as she got older, Thorin had begun to dig his heels in and now he was following her around everywhere, spoiling her fun. They always seemed to be scrapping these days.

She sighed as she finished grooming Rosie Girl in the stables. Roger's father had just sent her yet another invitation to a party at his mansion but she only wanted to go if she could break free from Thorin. She tidied herself up and decided that, this time, she wouldn't argue with him but would try to be sweet and amenable. So, Poppy brushed her golden curls and set off to find him down by the river.

Thorin was pleased when Poppy joined him there. He had only just decided that he was becoming a real grump with his daughter and that he needed to try harder. She sat down next to him and, linking her arm in his, leaned her head on his shoulder. "It's lovely down here, isn't it?" she said in a sweet, dreamy voice. "How lucky we are to live here," she lied. "And," she continued, giving him a peck on the cheek, "how lucky I am to have you as a father."

Thorin grinned. He was not a complete fool but he had enjoyed the kiss and it was comfortable sitting here shoulder to shoulder with his daughter. "So, tell me. What is it you want?" he asked, feeling just a little sad that the only time she was really nice to him these days was when she wanted something.

"Umm," said Poppy, a bit shame-faced because she felt caught out, "it's about this party tomorrow."

Thorin gave an inward groan. He could see another argument looming. Keep your temper, he told himself. "What about the party?" he asked.

"Well, I really appreciate it that you always escort me to the Grey Havens," she said in a humble voice. "I understand completely that it would be too dangerous for me to travel there on my own. And," she went on, "it must be such a nuisance for you that all my gadding about takes you away from important things like working on your commissions. And, of course, poor mother has to spend a couple of days on her own." An amused glint came into Thorin's eyes as he wondered where this was going.

"Well," she continued doggedly as her father made no response, "this is supposed to be a party just for young people, not for adults, and I was wondering..." Poppy broke off.

"Yes?" asked Thorin, grinning to himself. He had already decided to relax his hold a bit, but he wasn't going to make it easy for her.

"I was wondering if, just this once...just on this occasion...you just couldn't...well, perhaps..." and she stuttered to a halt again. And then she saw her father's amused look and she dug him in the ribs. "Oh, father," she complained, "you're just teasing me. What I want to know is, can you just not come to the party as well this time?"

"Yes," said Thorin.

"Yes, you will or yes, you won't?" asked Poppy startled.

"Yes, I won't," said Thorin and he laughed outright to see her amazement. "But," he added, "although I may not be in the room, I shall be in another part of the house and so don't imagine that you'll be completely unsupervised."

Poppy let out a little scream and threw her arms around his neck and gave him a big hug.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" she cried. "I shall be really, really good," she promised and Thorin looked happy that he had given his daughter so much pleasure. But, Poppy was thinking to herself: at last, an opportunity to find out a bit more about Roger while my father's not looking.

.o00o.

Pt II

They set out for the Grey Havens the next day. But, before they left, Poppy picked some wildflowers from a neighbouring meadow and then went to place them on the small mound in the corner of the vegetable garden. Dog had finally died the previous year and, for his last months, his legs had been so bad that he could hardly walk so Poppy had encouraged him to sleep in her bedroom. But, that last night, he had crawled out to the stable and that's where they had found him in the morning, lying on Warg's old blanket, lifeless and cold.

Dog had really missed Warg, as they all did. Every time Arion went out on a patrol at the outpost, he was on the alert for him. But he seemed to have disappeared completely. Poppy hated leaving Dog on his own and Tauriel wouldn't be home until the following day. And so she arranged the flowers in a small pottery jug on his grave and blew him a kiss before she mounted her horse.

Poppy and Thorin chatted amiably as they rode.

"Who's going to be at the party?" asked Thorin.

"Oh, you know, the usual crowd," she said.

"Roger's friends," he commented.

"Well, they are my friends too. Can I help it if we're isolated out here at the forge and I don't get many opportunities to socialise and meet new people?"

She sounded a little bad-tempered and so Thorin drew in his horns a bit. "Yes, I'm sorry if you feel cut off but we discussed it all before you were born and the forge seemed to offer the most advantages."

Name one, she wanted to say, but she didn't.

"I'm just sorry that you haven't got friends of your own age," continued Thorin. "Roger and his friends may be lively and well-meaning but they're a bit of a ramshackle crew and they're ten years older than you are. I sometimes wonder why they like you so much."

Because I'm pretty, because I'm fun, because I seem as grown up as they are, thought Poppy. And it was true that her elven blood had given her at least an appearance of maturity that Roger and his friends as yet seemed to lack.

"Well, I like going to stay at Roger's house," she said. "His father is lovely and always makes me feel so welcome."

Thorin wondered if she were making an odious comparison and felt a bit miffed. But, it was true that Barnaby Waller seemed to be very fond of his daughter and it gave him a certain pleasure to know that Poppy was so well received and admired by the richest man in the town. She had such charm and grace that she could fit in anywhere. A trait not acquired from my side of the family, he thought with a grin. His side had donated the stubbornness and grit. Perhaps she had yet to show her dwarven side to Barnaby. Very wise, he thought.

Barnaby was delighted to see them – even me, thought Thorin. I seem to have grown on him over the years. He knew about Barnaby's daughter and it was touching and quite sad to see the way he fussed over Poppy. And suddenly, it hit Thorin: Barnaby was lining Poppy up to be Roger's bride. He could see that Poppy brought a lot to the table but mainly he saw the yearning and the pain in Barnaby's eyes. And, did he want Poppy just to be a substitute for a dead child? Or could a marriage between his daughter and Roger be a successful one? Thorin didn't know. But, mostly he felt that she was still too young and that he didn't want to lose her yet.

As usual, Poppy gazed around the elegant drawing-room, imagining herself mistress of all she surveyed. It was a very beautiful room. Barnaby, with his trading ships, had access to goods from all over Middle-earth: his furniture was of the finest quality, the china and glass on the shelves was exquisite and the decor was in the very best taste. She would live in such comfort and luxury if she married Roger and she knew she had the makings of a perfect hostess. Is this what she wanted? She intended to find out this weekend.

Roger soon came bouncing into the room. The older he got, the better-looking he became, thought Thorin. He was tall and athletic, clean-shaven and with dark, wavy hair. There was always a merry twinkle in his eye. He was a good-natured boy and he would have to be if he wants to take on my daughter, Thorin's thoughts continued. He was sure that Roger and his father were totally unaware as yet of Poppy's manipulative ways or how petulant she could be when crossed. All they saw was a pretty young girl who laughed and chatted and hung on their arm and made them feel special.

Roger and Poppy sat with their heads together in a corner, discussing the coming party. Thorin and Barnaby discussed trade and business. Barnaby was surprised at how much he liked Thorin. Rose had been a trouble-maker and he was glad that she was now far away in the North and, without her presence, the Oakenshields had become a very respectable family.

Barnaby had given Roger a large room in the mansion for his party and soon he and Poppy went off to see if they could help with setting it up. Servants were putting out flowers and filling candelabra with fresh candles and laying side tables with cloths and plates all ready to be laden with food and a group of musicians were practising in the corner. The two young people went and chatted with them about their favourite tunes. "I think it's going to be a good night!" grinned Roger.

He gave Poppy a side-long glance. She was an extraordinarily pretty girl and her golden curls had fascinated him ever since he had seen her hair spread out upon the pillow when she was ill two years ago. He wanted to take her into a dark corner where he could run his fingers through those beautiful locks and kiss those tempting cupid's bow lips and pull that voluptuous little body against his own. Some chance! With Thorin suspiciously following their every move, he had been thwarted at every turn. Would he really have to marry her before he could touch her? Or would he get an opportunity this evening? He gave her a cheeky grin which she returned with a seductive smile. Roger suddenly felt hot all over.

Roger was not an experienced young man. His father had warned him bluntly about the loose women of the town and he had taken his father's advice seriously. Barnaby knew about such things and he would be a fool not to listen to him. So, there he was, twenty-six years of age and still a frustrated virgin. He wondered how the elves and dwarves coped with chastity for so long. It must be really hard, in particular, on the dwarves, because there was a serious shortage of dwarven women. Did they really remain virgins for their entire lives even when they couldn't find a partner? And he thought about Thorin who had not got married until he was 200 years old. Two hundred! And he was so manly and attractive too. Even Roger had noticed the way that the eyes of women followed him around the room. And his attraction had led to a number of "incidents" including the one in Roger's own home. How on earth could even a dwarf hold out against such demonstrations of passion? If Roger had been in his shoes, he would have succumbed straight away.

Well, Poppy had told him that, tonight, Thorin promised that he would stay away from the main party, even though he might lurk somewhere in another room. Roger was beginning to feel quite excited. It wasn't that he wanted to take advantage of Poppy. He was very fond of her and might even love her. And when he imagined taking Poppy to his bed every night then the thought of marrying her seemed like an even better idea. He was confident, as his father said, that she would make a perfect partner for him and a perfect new member of the Waller family. But he had to be careful how he treated her or his father would be furious and skin him alive. His father loved Poppy as if she were his own daughter, so that wasn't just one but two fathers he had to worry about.

As the afternoon waned, they went off to their separate rooms to dress for the party. When Poppy emerged, Roger was waiting for her and he was knocked back by her appearance. Such an evening as this had been planned by Poppy for a long time. She had got one of the maids to help her with her hair so that it was now partly piled on her head in quite an adult and sophisticated way whilst the rest was allowed to fall and tumble down her back in enticing ripples.

Her dress had been kept in reserve, like the styling of her hair, for maximum effect. It was more adult than the type of gown she normally wore and had a slightly lower neckline which, although it didn't plunge in an all-revealing way, just hinted at the top of her breasts so that Roger felt his tongue was hanging out and he shut his mouth quickly. The material was her mother's favourite colour, a shimmering sea-green, and she knew that this colour favoured blonds. The material was very fine and clung sensuously to her attractive figure. A delicate golden necklace, a present from Thorin, hung about her neck and dipped slightly below the neckline. Roger found his eyes were glued to it as it rose and fell above and below the material when she walked.

Thorin emerged from his own room just then and he stopped abruptly and stared at Poppy whilst Poppy smiled sweetly and innocently at him. He was about to say, "Get back in your room, young lady, and change that dress," when Barnaby suddenly came down the corridor.

His eyes softened when he saw Poppy and he took her hand and then twirled her around. "You look wonderful, child," he said with true admiration in his voice. "Absolutely beautiful! Your father should be really proud of you!" And he turned for confirmation to Thorin and Thorin found he had to swallow his words.

"Yes, very nice," he managed to mutter.

"Nice!" said Barnaby. "Well, it's more than nice. I think your daughter will be the most beautiful girl in the room tonight. Don't you agree, Roger?"

"Oh, definitely, father," said Roger, grinning at Thorin's discomfiture.

They went off then to the dining-room where Thorin and Barnaby ate well but the two young people only snacked in readiness for the food at the party later that evening. When the guests started to arrive, Barnaby took Thorin by the arm and suggested that it was time for the adults to make themselves scarce. Thorin wanted to sit in the library next to the party room but Barnaby laughed and said that his presence there would be too oppressive and whisked him off to his private apartments on the far side of the house.

Roger was right about the party: it was a very good night. The food and wine were superb, the musicians played everyone's favourite music and the group of guests who had been friends with each other for some time were thoroughly enjoying each other's company. They had first known Poppy as Rose's sister but now they liked her for herself, however young she was, and she was a favourite member of the group. The girls admired her dress and hair and the young men made suggestive remarks in a good-humoured way that made her laugh. Roger positioned himself by her side, determined that no other lad would elbow him out. And Poppy was feeling quite triumphant.

Thorin, meanwhile, fidgeted restlessly in Barnaby's apartment whilst the merchant plied him with fine wines. "Oh, keep still, Thorin," he laughed. "What on earth do you think will happen to your daughter in my house? They're a really good bunch of young people and Roger will keep an eye on her."

Yes, thought Thorin. Just what I'm worried about. Not just one eye but both of them had been on her earlier and they were out on stalks. But he tried to hide his concern out of politeness to his host and had another cup of wine.

Back at the party, it was beginning to get quite late and Roger had manoeuvred Poppy into a quiet corner. She knew what he was up to and played along with him quite willingly. "You know," he murmured in her ear, "your hair shines like gold in this candlelight." Poppy wanted to groan and roll up her eyes but, for an inexperienced young man, she supposed he was trying quite hard.

"Oh, do you think so, Roger?" she said coyly. "What a lovely thing to say."

"You look just like a princess in that dress," he continued, and now he was breathing hotly on her neck.

"A princess! My, I haven't been called a princess since I was a child," she said, opening her eyes wide.

Roger was steering her in the right direction now. "You wouldn't believe how much you look like the princess in a painting of my father's. When I was a little boy, I used to think her the most beautiful creature in the world."

He genuinely had her interest now. "Would you like to see it? She's hanging over the fireplace in the library next door."

She grimaced. "Isn't my father likely to be there?" she asked.

"I don't think so. My father said he would take him off to his apartments," Roger reassured her.

And so, Poppy allowed him to lead her to the library. Well done, Roger, she giggled to herself.

The library, on Roger's instructions to the servants, was only dimly lit, but the candles on the mantelpiece highlighted the lovely painting of a beautiful elven princess. Roger stood behind Poppy as she stared up at it, and, placing his hands on her shoulders, he whispered breathily to her: "Look how beautiful she is, Poppy, but not as beautiful as you."

Poppy turned into his embrace and he kissed her. Whilst he held her tightly to him and forced his tongue into her mouth and tangled his fingers in her glorious hair, she closed her eyes and thought hard about how it was affecting her. There were a number of pluses: she rather liked the feel of his muscled shoulders beneath her hands and she also liked the smell of his cologne. She seemed to be having an effect upon him because his breathing was becoming ragged and he was moaning a bit: this gave her an odd feeling of power. But, what she didn't like was his aggressive attack upon her lips – it was not the gentle, romantic kiss that she had imagined. And his strength was a bit frightening.

Roger, unaware of her response, was getting quite carried away by his passions. He was enjoying the sensations that she was arousing in him but his body was telling him that he wanted more. He had only intended to lure Poppy into the library for a bit of a kiss but, now that they were alone, in semi-darkness, it seemed like a waste of an opportunity.

Meanwhile, Thorin had finished a number of drinks and had got up to pace around the room. "I think, Barnaby," he said finally, "that I'll pop down to the party for a few minutes, just to see if everything is all right." And before Waller could stop him, he was gone.

Downstairs, he lurked in the doorway and checked out the party room. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves but there was no sign of either Poppy or Roger. He knew it! He decided to investigate the library next.

Opening the door of the library quietly, he was not at all surprised to find Roger sprawled on the couch with his daughter underneath him. Thorin felt a moment of violence but he had faced this situation with Rose and Telbarad and, when he had confronted them, they had only laughed at him. And so, he decided to tackle it in a different way.

"Oh, hello, you two," he said in an amiable voice (at which they both gasped, jumped to their feet and started to rearrange their clothing). "Don't mind me. I've just come in for a quiet read." And he went to a bookshelf, selected a book and sat down.

Roger and Poppy looked at each other aghast.

Thorin glanced up at them.

"The party's still going strong," he said. "Why don't you both go and join the fun?"

And the young couple edged towards the door as quickly as possible, whilst Thorin grinned to himself. He was getting quite good at this thwarting business, he thought.

.o00o.

Pt III

Thorin and Poppy were pretty quiet on their way back to the forge the next day. Thorin didn't want to get involved in an argument and Poppy had a lot to think about.

The previous night had only gone partly as she had intended. Yes, she had achieved closer contact with Roger but she was unhappy about how far it had gone. She had wanted to kiss Roger so that she could ascertain what her feelings for him were, but those moments in the library had confused her and she now wasn't sure what to think.

The pleasure she had got out of his kisses had been limited. She had not been swept along on a tide of love or passion, so she supposed that this proved what she had already guessed – that Roger was only a good friend. But she had enjoyed the feeling of power that those moments had given her and she idly wondered if a life with Roger would be acceptable if she knew that she could have him at her feet. The trouble was, this feeling of power had suddenly faded as Roger's own physical strength began to show itself and he became the one to take control. It had got just a little bit frightening on that sofa and, although she hated to admit it, she had been relieved when her father had walked into the room.

"He always comes!" had been a popular saying in the family for years now and she had never been more glad that Thorin had come last night.

Well, thought Poppy, her manipulative skills were excellent and she was sure that, if she married Roger, she would soon learn to control those displays of passion she had experienced in the library. But, did she want to marry Roger? And was it worth the prize of a big house, a doting family and financial security? The answer might just be yes. But, her next move was to explore the possibility of a relationship with Lostwithiel.

She thought about Lostwithiel and she smiled. He was the dearest person. He had always been so kind to her and he had always been there. He was one of the best-looking people she had ever met, possibly even better-looking than her handsome father, who, she had always thought, was a hard act to follow. She apparently could do no wrong in Lostwithiel's eyes – and that was how she liked it. They had a very tactile relationship. She was always hanging on his arm and pecking him on the cheek and sitting on his lap. But, it was a child's relationship at the moment and she wanted to be taken in his arms and to be kissed on the lips. She somehow knew that both his kisses and her response would be different from the experience she had had with Roger and she was planning on giving it a trial.

"Can we all go up to the outpost when mother goes next week?" she asked. "I'd really like to see Arion. And I wouldn't mind a bit of sword practice with the men," she added.

"I don't see why not," said Thorin, feeling happy that she wanted to improve her fighting skills, "and I'm always pleased to have an excuse to see my son." And the last leg of the journey was passed quite pleasantly.

Tauriel was there to welcome them home and she wanted to hear all the details of the party: who was there, what Poppy had worn, how she had done her hair. Thorin didn't mention the incident in the library and Poppy was relieved about that.

But, of course, once they were in bed together, Thorin told Tauriel the whole story.

"I think she's after him," said Thorin. "All that wealth and luxury really seem to appeal to her. And I think that Roger and his father both think it's a pretty good idea too."

"I think you're right," agreed his wife. "And I suppose the marriage could work. Roger and Barnaby are nice people and they've always seemed so fond of Poppy."

"Roger was acting a bit more than just fond," snorted Thorin, "when I found them together on the sofa. I don't know how I restrained myself."

Tauriel kissed him on the nose and giggled. "No, I can't imagine you restraining yourself either," she laughed. "I don't see much restraint in this bed."

"And after three days without you," Thorin murmured, "I think I used up all my self-control in Waller's house. Time to make up for it, I think."

.o00o.

Just under a week later, the three of them set off for the outpost. Poppy was quietly laying plans and Thorin and Tauriel had no idea what was going on in her head. When she had been very small and Rose had married Telbarad, she had declared loudly that she would marry Lostwithiel instead. Everyone had laughed at her and had thought that she was only trying to comfort her favourite person, but no-one had thought any more of it. Thorin would have been appalled if he had known that Poppy was lining up the elf-lord as possible husband material. Six or seven years ago, he had manipulated the situation to give Rose a chance with Lostwithiel but, when she had married Telbarad instead, he had realised how relieved he was. No, the elf was definitely not a husband he would choose for Poppy.

But, as they rode happily up to the farmhouse, no such suspicions were there to oppress him. The troop was pleased to see them as usual, Arion in particular. He loved his job and his comrades but, now that Warg and Dog and Rose were gone and he only saw the rest of his family every week or so, he sometimes felt a little lonely.

The elves responsible for the cooking that night served up a feast and they all sat around the kitchen table eating, drinking, laughing and having fun. Poppy slid along the bench and slipped herself under Lostwithiel's arm, a position she often took up. No-one thought this unusual. Poppy snuggled up to him and Lostwithiel gave her a casual, brotherly hug. Hmmm, well, thought Poppy. Things would be changing pretty soon.

As the evening wore on, some of the elves, including Arion, set off on night patrol and others went to bed. Thorin and Tauriel were tired and, as they made their exit, Thorin turned to Poppy who was still sitting in the middle of a small group, and said, "No more than half an hour and then I want you to go to bed." She nodded her agreement and Thorin was satisfied. She usually behaved herself at the farmhouse because she didn't want to be told off like a child in front of the troop. But, she hung on in the kitchen until only she and Lostwithiel were left chatting together.

"Isn't it time for you to go?" he grinned. "Or Thorin will lose his temper with you and I shall be in trouble for keeping you up."

She held her face up to him. "Well, I think a goodnight kiss would help me on my way," she smiled.

Lostwithiel bent his head to kiss her cheek but she slipped her hand behind his neck and brought his lips down on hers and then kissed him full on the mouth.

Lostwithiel was startled, shocked even. He didn't respond but didn't pull away. She finished the kiss and then stood up with a saucy grin and tripped lightly out of the room to her guest quarters next to the stables. The elf lord sat in the kitchen for a few minutes and then went upstairs and lay down upon his bed to have a think because he had not seen this coming and he wasn't quite sure what it meant.

Like all elves and dwarves before their betrothal, he was still a virgin in spite of his advanced years, and his experience with love was very limited. There had been Tauriel and there had been Challis and there had been Rose. And that was it. These moments of love had happened all of a sudden, in a clump, ever since his arrival in Ered Luin. Perhaps it was a sign that he was searching for something more than what he had had before.

His experience with Tauriel had been very strange. He had known her for hundreds of years in Mirkwood without feeling anything more than a vague friendship for her and then she had married Thorin and things had changed. It had made him think about - stuff. And that stuff had stirred him up a bit. It wasn't helped by the gossip that was running around behind people's hands – the lascivious insinuations, the unpleasant jokes and the lewd wonderings about what went on in Thorin and Tauriel's bed. And then they were thrown together when she was put in charge of the outpost. His opinion of her morals was so low by then that he had decided to take advantage of her and in a moment of utter folly had clumsily forced himself upon her. And what a mess he had made of it! And she had been decent enough to forgive him – even to laugh at it. And she had been a good friend and captain ever since, inviting him into her home, making him a part of her family. And even Thorin seemed to have put the incident behind him. And yet he still wasn't sure how he felt about Tauriel. She was a wonderful, beautiful, gifted person and he thought that he loved her a little. But it was a love that had to be tucked away in the recesses of his heart because she obviously loved Thorin and would never love anyone else.

And then Challis had arrived on the scene – a completely new face. In looks, she resembled Tauriel and, before he knew it, he was smitten. Was it because she looked like Tauriel? Well, he would never know now because she had chosen Lithin.

This was one of the problems, really, of being immortal. You had plenty of time to get to know practically every elf in Middle-earth. Faces and relationships became stale and it was difficult to imagine being married to any of them. That was why he had been taken with Challis, perhaps, because she was from distant Lothlorien. He really ought to go on a visit there to see if any other unfamiliar face took his fancy.

And the other problem with immortality was that, when you mixed with those who were not immortal, you saw them born, grow up, grow old and die. And it was truly weird to fall in love with someone who was going through a process that just didn't happen to elves. And so, one day, he had turned around, and the child, Rose, was a beautiful woman. He had fought to win her hand but had lost out there too. And she was someone else who was linked to Tauriel. He had begun to suspect his own motives.

And, on top of everything, Tauriel's daughter had kissed him. What was going on between him and the Oakenshield family? Here was another beautiful creature whom he was now seeing in a different light in only the blink of an eye. He knew he was a rather sad and lonely being and he felt that cracks were opening up about his heart the longer he went without someone to love or someone to love him. And it worried him that he seemed to be using this family as some sort of comfort blanket.

He went to his window and saw that Poppy's light was still on. He had to know and so he went downstairs and crossed the yard and knocked on her door. She opened the door immediately and she had obviously been waiting up for him. She gestured him inside and he walked into the room.

They stood facing each other for a moment and then he said: "So, tell me, what was that all about?"

She looked up at him coyly through her long eyelashes. "I just wanted to kiss you. Didn't you enjoy it?"

He thought for a moment and then said, "No, I don't think I did. It came out of the blue and it's confused me."

"Poor 'Thiel," she said softly. "There's nothing to be confused about. I just think I feel more for you than friendship." And she reached up and stroked his cheek. "So," she continued, "What do you think you feel for me?"

"I don't know any more," he replied.

"Then kiss me again," she said and she lifted up her lips.

For a moment he hesitated and then he kissed her. And it was just as Poppy had imagined - soft and tender and with the first indications of love. He didn't pounce upon her like Roger, nor did he grapple her to the bed or try to fumble her; but his arms encircled her and held her gently and she wanted the kiss to continue.

But, with a sigh, he stood away from her. "Let's go for a walk tomorrow morning after breakfast," he said, "and let's talk about it." Then he went back to his own room leaving Poppy to think that things were coming along nicely.

.o00o.

Pt IV

The next morning, Poppy had breakfast and was out of the farmhouse with Lostwithiel before her parents were up. "Where shall we go?" she asked. It was a beautiful day and the sky was very clear. She was very much looking forward to a romantic walk through the dappled shade of this lovely, hilly area.

"How about the waterfall?" he suggested.

Ah, thought Poppy, an idyllic spot for their tryst and she nodded in agreement.

They set off hand in hand, as they often walked, but this time it felt different and they were both very aware of the touch, the warmth, the pressure of each other's grasp. There was a beaten track up to this favourite picnic spot which was only a mile away. "We shouldn't go too far," said Lostwithiel. "It might be dangerous."

Soon, they encountered a wide and fast-flowing stream that tumbled down from the hills. It was very picturesque and they walked in silence for a while appreciating their surroundings.

At last, the elf lord started up the conversation: "I've been awake half the night, Poppy, thinking about things and I'm finding it quite difficult to get my thoughts in order."

She gave his hand an encouraging squeeze and so he continued: "For more than twenty years now, I've had a lot to do with your family, Poppy, even before you were born. You're all very important to me and you know that you, in particular, have a very special place in my heart."

"And you in mine," she said.

He blushed a little at this, then carried on. "Your mother is beautiful and wonderful, as is Rose, as are you. I love you all. But the question is: do I feel more passionately about you than I do about your mother and your sister?"

"Well, do you?" she asked.

"Up until the moment you kissed me last night, I would have said 'no', but since that kiss, I have begun to wonder."

"Oh, good," laughed Poppy, winding her arm around his waist and hugging him. "I'm glad about that. You're going in the right direction, 'Thiel."

"And now, looking back," he continued, "I think I had started to feel about you differently even when you were only fourteen and I thought you were dying...The pain..." And he faltered. "That kiss last night just brought things to a head and has possibly opened my eyes a little."

They had reached the waterfall by now. It was high and slender and came rushing over a cliff edge and fed the powerful stream. As the water rushed along the river-bed, it reached a choke point locally known as Lover's Leap because, when you stood on one rocky ledge, it appeared such a short gap to the ledge on the other side that, with a bit of effort, it seemed easy enough to jump it. The water was like a cauldron at this point as it forced its way through the narrow channel. It churned and boiled and Poppy remembered how excited she had felt when Lostwithiel had first brought her here as a child.

"I think I could jump that," she had said.

"Oh, no, you couldn't," the elf had laughed. "It's called Lover's Leap because the story has it that a fit young man tried to leap over it so that he could reach the girl he loved but he fell in and was drowned." But Poppy had insisted on standing very close to the edge and he had wrapped her hair around his fist as she stood and peered into the foaming water racing through the gap.

"Do you remember?" she asked him, laughing up at him.

"Do I?" he groaned. "You were always determined to get your way."

And she slid her hands up to his shoulders and said softly, "Well, then, just give me my way in this matter and kiss me again."

And she looked so pretty that he couldn't resist her.

.o00o.

When Thorin got up that morning, he couldn't find Poppy anywhere. She was not in the kitchen nor in her guest room but, as he returned across the yard, he bumped into Rostrel coming out of the stables with his horse.

"Have you seen Poppy?" he asked.

"Yes," he said. "I saw her with Lostwithiel about half an hour ago and they were climbing the track to the waterfall."

Then Rostrel shuffled his feet a bit and added: "I don't know if I should mention this, but I saw him coming out of her room late last night and it – concerned me." But when the elf saw Thorin's eyes suddenly flare up, he wished he hadn't mentioned it after all and so he mounted his horse quickly and rode away before he was embroiled in something he had no wish to be embroiled in.

Thorin stood in the yard stunned for a moment. Poppy and Lostwithiel! Why hadn't he suspected anything? First Roger, now the elf! What was that naughty daughter of his up to? And he could feel his anger rising at both of them. He hastened up the track to the picnic spot and the further he walked, the more his anger grew.

Poppy, meanwhile, was thoroughly enjoying herself. She was in the middle of confirming that she was, indeed, in love with Lostwithiel and not with Roger. He was holding her tightly in his arms and yet she wasn't afraid. She sensed that she only had to say the word and he would let her go and it pleased her to feel in control. His kisses were gentle but very sensuous and she didn't want him to stop. In fact, she was beginning to understand why Roger had wanted more. And she was just on the verge of offering Lostwithiel more – even though she only had a vague idea of what "more" was - when her father walked into the clearing looking like a thundercloud.

Poppy saw Thorin out of the corner of her eye and gave the elf lord a warning squeeze before pulling her lips away from his. Lostwithiel turned his head and saw Thorin standing there looking for all the world as if he were ready to throttle him, just like on that night when he had confessed to him about the incident with Tauriel, and his heart sank. He put up his hand defensively and said, "Hold your horses, Thorin, it's not as bad as it looks."

"How can it be less bad than it looks," snarled Thorin, "a VERY old elf lord kissing my sixteen year old daughter in a secluded spot. I trusted you, Lostwithiel!" he said and he came stalking towards them across the glade.

Poppy had always been able to manage her father and she didn't doubt that she could this time. "Oh, father," she said, "stepping in front of Lostwithiel, "now stop being silly. We're only kissing."

But this remark reminded him so much of what Rose had said to him when he had caught her with Telbarad – and look at how that had turned out! – that it enraged him even more. He wasn't going to make the same mistake and back down this time.

"You should be ashamed of yourself, Poppy," he snapped. "I'm sure that you've had a hand in this too! And after I found you with Roger the other night, I thought you had learned a lesson!"

"Roger?!" exclaimed Lostwithiel, looking at her in surprise, and Poppy felt an urge to gag her father to stop him from saying any more. How could he? She was sure he was doing this deliberately in order to ruin her chances with the person she loved.

"Yes, Roger!" continued Thorin, his fury mounting. "She's taking you for a fool, Lostwithiel! And you are a fool too – always have been! You'd be surprised what I caught them up to at his party only a couple of nights ago."

Lostwithiel turned large, hurt eyes upon her. "So, all that, you know, all that kissing and – what you said – it was all a bit of fun to you?" Poppy tried to take his hands but he pulled them away.

"Don't listen to my father," she cried. "He just doesn't understand."

"Of course I understand you, Poppy," sneered Thorin. "You've wrapped me around your little finger all these years so I know what's it's like to be manipulated by you!"

She put her hands over her ears and cried, "Stop it, father!"

But, all the suppressed anger, associated with being led a merry dance by his daughter for years and being tricked by Rose and being defied by Arion came pouring out of him. He loved them and had done everything for them and they had given him nothing in return except a hard time. Or at least that's how it appeared at that precise moment.

The tears began to pour down Poppy's face but this only increased his fury.

"That's right, turn on the water taps. That's how women always get their way, isn't it? But it won't work with me any more, young lady. You're coming back to the farmhouse right now!" And he moved forward to seize her wrist.

Poppy felt as though she really hated him at that moment. "Get away from me!" she yelled. "I'm not coming back with you!" And she wiped the tears from her eyes with her hand.

"And where else are you thinking of going?" growled Thorin.

"I don't know," she retorted, "but I'm not coming with you." And, as he made another movement towards her, she turned and ran.

"Come back," Thorin roared. "Come back this minute." And he ran after her.

Lostwithiel had been standing there feeling stunned both by the news about Roger and by the violent exchange between father and daughter he had just witnessed. But, now he started running too when he saw where Poppy was heading.

"She's making for the Leap!" he yelled to Thorin and, in a shocked moment, the dwarf realised that this was so. In a split second, all his anger drained from him and, instead, he knew fear.

Poppy was running blindly for the choke point in the river and when she got there, she didn't hesitate, but flung herself across. Both elf and dwarf held their breath and, for a moment, they thought that she had made it as her foot touched the rock on the far side. But it was wet from the spray and she slipped, lost her balance and fell backwards into the water. Thorin and Lostwithiel stood appalled on the river bank. She had disappeared from view as the raging currents dragged her under and kept her under. Thorin, seething with guilt, went to dive in after her but Lostwithiel seized his arm. "Wait!" he said. And he was right because suddenly the currents released their grip and she was tossed to the surface and swept downstream.

They both pursued her, trying to get ahead of her, but the river bank was rocky and blocked by bushes, Slowly, the gap between them began to open and Thorin and Lostwithiel were filled with despair. The hills rose up more and more steeply either side of the river and their progress was becoming even slower. She was nearly out of sight, somehow managing to keep her head above water, but Thorin knew that she only had to be dashed against one of the large boulders that littered her path and she would be gone.

Then suddenly, in what was almost an action replay for the elf, a huge white streak shot down from the ridge, plunged into the water and seized Poppy by her long, trailing hair. "Warg!" they both shouted. And the stunned relief in their voices was almost palpable.

Warg dragged her to the bank and set her there tenderly. Thorin and Lostwithiel ran forward, shouting his name with joy. But the creature looked up at them for a moment, licked Poppy's pale cheek and then, with only a momentary hesitation, turned and was gone.

All their attention was on Poppy then. They turned her over and pumped the water out of her lungs until she coughed and spluttered and revived. The elf lord wrapped her in his cloak and then, together, they carried her down to the farmhouse.

.o00o.

Thorin and Lostwithiel didn't talk as they came down the hill; they were too distraught. Thorin was also thinking ahead to when he would have to explain things to Tauriel. And as they neared the farmhouse, they could see Tauriel looking for them in the yard. Her eyes widened in fear at their approach but the elf waved his arms and shouted that everyone was safe. They took Poppy to her bedroom and left her in the care of Tauriel and Challis who stripped her off and wrapped her in dry clothes and then tucked her in. Thorin and Lostwithiel sat outside, drooping and exhausted.

"I'm sorry," said Thorin.

"No, I'm sorry," said Lostwithiel.

And they sat in silence until Tauriel came out. "She's asleep," she said. "And now I want you both to come to the kitchen and tell me exactly what happened."

The other elves sensed that they wanted privacy and left them to it.

"Thorin?" said Tauriel, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, um, I suddenly discovered this morning that Poppy and Lostwithiel had started some kind of – um – relationship."

"There was no relationship," Lostwithiel protested.

"Shush," said Tauriel. "You'll get your turn."

"They had been seen going up to the waterfall together and so I followed them and got myself into – um – a bit of a bad temper," Thorin continued, looking very guilty. "And, when I found them kissing up there, I had a bit – a bit of a shout. And Poppy got upset and ran away and tried to jump the Leap. She fell into the water and we couldn't reach her. She nearly drowned but Warg saved her."

"Warg!" exclaimed Tauriel. "But where is he?"

"We don't know," said Lostwithiel. "He just disappeared."

"And your version?" said Tauriel turning to the elf lord. It was now his turn to look uncomfortable and miserable.

"Well, you know how I've always loved all of you..." the elf started.

"Including my wife," snorted Thorin.

"ALL of you," insisted the elf, looking pointedly at Thorin. "I'd always thought that my feelings for Poppy were no different from what I felt for the rest of this family, but, yesterday, she suddenly kissed me – right out of the blue. I felt really confused about it and I went to her room last night and we arranged to go up to the waterfall so that we could talk about our feelings for each other... And that's about it."

"No, it's not," growled Thorin. "What did you both decide about your feelings?"

"Well," said Lostwithiel, looking embarrassed, "I had just got to the point of deciding that I DID have feelings for her when you interrupted. And then you mentioned Roger and now I feel confused again."

"Do you want to hear what I think?" asked Tauriel.

"Yes," they chorused. Tauriel always knew what was what.

"I think that Poppy is trying to work out which of you she'd rather marry. I think she may love you, Lostwithiel," and the elf looked very pleased with this conclusion, "but I think she is very drawn to the life of comfort and ease that Roger can offer her." And Lostwithiel looked downcast.

"But," she continued, "she had no right to lead either of you on like this and I can understand, Thorin, why you lost your temper. But everything will just have to go on hold for the moment because, although Poppy is the type of girl to marry early, I still think she's too young and I don't give either you, Lostwithiel, or Roger my permission to court her yet. She needs time to think."

Thorin and Lostwithiel nodded. Tauriel was always more than fair in her conclusions. "Come on," she said, patting them both on the shoulder. "I'll make you a nice, hot drink."

At that moment, Arion came hurtling into the kitchen, his eyes alight. "The men say you've seen Warg," he gasped.

And they told him all the details of their encounter. They thought he would be miserable that Warg had not come home but Arion was only glad that his pet was still alive. "He's up there in the hills somewhere and he's keeping his eye on us," he said; and he went off whistling.

.o00o.

When Poppy woke up from her sleep, she asked to see her father and Lostwithiel and then she wept and hugged them and said how sorry she was for being so stupid. "Yet another stupid dwarf in the family," she said. But everyone forgave everyone and Tauriel gave her verdict and Poppy was quite relieved that she didn't have to make up her mind just yet, because it was a very complicated decision.

That night, Challis volunteered to sleep on a bed roll in her room and Thorin and Tauriel finally climbed into their own narrow cot together.

"When we decided to have children," Thorin sighed, "I had no idea it was going to be so difficult."

Tauriel put her arms around him and kissed him. "But you have really risen to the occasion and you've been a wonderful father," she whispered.

"I'm glad you think so," he said. "I feel such a failure on days like this."

"And you're also a wonderful husband," she added, breathing hotly on his neck. Thorin grinned. His bad day was going to finish in a pretty good night; he could see it coming.

"In what way, my love?" he asked huskily.

"Well," she said, trying not to laugh, "you're very good at washing up."

"And?" he said.

"You grow pretty good vegetables."

"And?" he asked again.

"You don't mind scrubbing the kitchen floor."

"And? Surely there's something more important?" he said, nuzzling her neck.

"Well, you are quite good in bed," she said, giggling.

"Only 'quite'?" he said indignantly.

"All right: VERY good in bed," she conceded. "Are you satisfied?"

"How can I ever be satisfied when I'm lying next to the most beautiful creature on Middle-earth?" he murmured. "I shall never be satisfied. But I'm determined to try," he sighed, "even if it takes me all night."

.o00o.


	24. Chapter 24 Thorin and the Fosterchild

Thorin and Tauriel will soon be the proud owners of an empty nest, LOL! This comes after Tauriel has told Roger and Lostwithiel not to court Poppy for a whole year. But, just as I get close to the end of these stories, I introduce a new character. What are you doing, I hear you say? Well, I'm trying to tie up a few loose ends. Plus we also get to see a little of Rose and Telbarad's private life which will then be the main theme of next week's story.

.o00o.

THORIN AND THE FOSTERCHILD

PT I

Thorin was lying in bed with Tauriel and thinking about their future together. Soon, he knew, Poppy would want to discuss her own future, perhaps with Roger or Lostwithiel. In the end, another man would take her away from him and, then, all his children would be gone. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? He grinned and rolled over towards Tauriel's sleeping form, snuggling into her. Well, if he didn't feel in the mood to get up, but preferred to stay in bed a bit longer with his wife, then he could - if there weren't any children to get up and make breakfast for. He sighed at the luxury of the thought. Yes, he really missed Rose and Arion and he was sure he would miss Poppy too, but being left with an empty nest had its compensations.

He nuzzled Tauriel's neck and she turned sleepily into his arms. Was there time, he thought? Nope. He could hear Poppy stirring. He groaned and, giving Tauriel a parting kiss, he struggled out of bed. Tauriel opened one eye. "Make me a nice, hot cup of tea, please," she said. Well, he had kept her up half the night and he supposed she deserved one, he thought. And he staggered off to the kitchen.

Poppy was giving him a hand when they heard horses in the yard. She peered out the window and screamed with delight. "It's Rose!" she yelled. Tauriel came running from her bedroom clutching a robe about her just as Poppy flung open the door. There in the yard were Rose and Telbarad and, sitting in front of Telbarad on his saddle-bow was a little girl. They all stopped and blinked.

"You haven't been having babies behind our backs, have you, Rose?" Thorin laughed.

"Well, you know how much you like surprises," Rose grinned in return. And, for a moment, they all wondered if she were joking or not. Rose dismounted and then lifted the little girl down. Her husband dismounted next and the child clutched his hand.

"She prefers men," he smiled.

"Now, that's a sign of good taste," said Thorin.

They stabled the horses and then entered the house. Poppy dug around and found some of her old toys, then sat down on the floor and played with the child whilst the others chatted quietly together. "Her name's Emily," said Telbarad and then he fell silent.

Tauriel looked at Rose for a further explanation. "She's five and her father was a Ranger," said Rose. Tauriel noticed the past tense. "Her mother died when she was born and she should have been sent somewhere like Rivendell. But her father, Orondis, refused to let her go and has been dragging her around the camps of the North ever since."

"We all tried to help," added Telbarad. "She's a tough little thing." And he smiled across at her.

"What happened to Orondis?" asked Thorin.

"He was killed in a battle with the orcs a few weeks ago," supplied Telbarad. He paused again. "He was my best friend."

"And now we don't know what to do," said Rose, "so we thought we would come and discuss it with you two."

Thorin felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"We've got a number of choices," said Telbarad. "We could continue to look after her amongst ourselves, passing her from hand to hand. But we never actually approved of Orondis keeping her in the North, so we don't really see that as an option."

"Or we could take her to Rivendell to be looked after by the elves," continued Rose. Thorin rolled up his eyes at the thought of the poor child's fate and both Tauriel and Poppy dug him in the ribs.

"Or we could find her a foster family," Rose added, looking straight at her father. But Thorin deflected the thought with a slight movement of his hand.

"Doesn't she make you think of Poppy?" Rose asked. And Thorin looked at the pretty, golden-haired child and decided that she did. And that was the problem. Could he really face bringing up another child like Poppy? His daughter had been hard work and had led him a merry dance. Now, his life with Tauriel was about to begin all over again and Rose was suggesting that they put things on hold.

But Tauriel had a silly smile on her face and she reached across to Thorin and touched his hand. "Poor little thing," she said. "Let's go for a bit of a walk, my love." And she took him down to the river whilst Poppy got their guests some breakfast.

"I know what you're going to say, Tauriel," said Thorin, with a warning note in his voice. "But I don't think I want to do it. Soon, it will be just you and me again and I'm looking forward to it."

"But, what is life for?" she asked pleadingly.

"Well, it's not to spend it looking after other people's children," he said grumpily.

"And what about Rose?" she asked. "Aren't you glad you brought her home? Isn't she one of the best things ever to happen in your life?"

Thorin fidgeted. "Yes, Rose has been a wonderful addition to this family and I've never once regretted her presence. But...I'm getting older," he said quietly. "You will live forever, but I won't and I want to spend at least part of my life just with you."

Tauriel understood. She slipped her arms around his waist and kissed him gently on the cheek. "I'm being selfish," she said. "Let's go and explain to them that we don't feel we can do this." And she walked with him back to the house.

Rose and Telbarad looked up hopefully as they entered the room. "We've come to a decision," said Tauriel.

"Yes," said Thorin, taking a deep breath, "we'd like to give it a try and see how it works out."

Rose clapped her hands and Tauriel stood there with her mouth open. "But..." she said.

Thorin pulled a face. "I won't be able to live with myself," he muttered, "if she grows up without a family. I don't think I can consign her to a load of elves."

.o00o.

Rose went to bed that night feeling very satisfied. Everything had gone as she had planned. Thorin might feel a bit grumpy initially about a new child in the family but she had been concerned that Poppy would doubtless be leaving home in the not too distant future and she didn't want either of her parents to feel lonely.

"But, perhaps they want to be on their own once more," Telbarad had said.

Rose snorted, confident that she understood her adoptive father.

"Thorin thrives on being given the run around by his children," she laughed. "I don't know what he'll do with himself once Poppy is gone. And Tauriel always longed to have more than just the three of us. They are both extraordinarily good parents." And she unpacked their gear in the guest suite, totally confident in her opinion on the matter. But Telbarad wasn't so sure.

However, the big plus about this trip, Telbarad thought, was the lovely, soft feather mattress on the bed. "Look," he said, patting the coverlet, "a real bed at last." And he grinned across at Rose and, stripping off his clothes at surprising speed, jumped between the sheets. He leaned there on his elbow and looked suggestively up at his wife. "Let's try it out," he said.

He waited for her to fall laughing into his arms but, instead, she changed into a nightgown, walked slowly to the cupboard and pulled out a spare pillow. Then she returned to the bed and placed it in the middle of the mattress. Once she had got in, the pillow lay like a barrier between them.

"What's all this about?" said the Ranger, frowning.

Rose looked guilty. "I forgot to bring my fennel draught," she said, "and I don't want to succumb to temptation. I thought the pillow might help…..Both of us," she added.

Telbarad was normally a calm and reasonable person. But an irritated flicker passed fleetingly across his face that made him look like Thorin having a very grumpy moment, thought Rose.

"Well, it definitely doesn't help me," he said curtly and he flung the pillow out of bed and pulled Rose into his arms.

But Rose pushed him away and turned her back on him. "You know I don't want to get pregnant yet," she said. "We've been so careful. I really am sorry I forgot to bring the fennel but, without it, the risk we take dramatically increases."

Telbarad pressed himself against her back and ran his lips across her neck. "Perhaps it's time for a baby," he said. "Looking after Emily has made me feel quite broody." And he edged down her nightgown at the neck a little and began to kiss her shoulder.

She turned to face him and Telbarad, taking this as a sign of acquiescence, began to undo some of the buttons. But she took him firmly by the wrist and stopped him. "Think about it, my love," she said. "A moment's pleasure and we might be separated for years whilst I bring a child up in Rivendell."

"Well, perhaps you could move in with your parents here at the forge," he murmured, managing to undo a few more buttons with his other hand. "That would keep you closer."

Rose seized his other hand as well: "And I thought it was you who reckoned that Thorin and Tauriel want some time together once their children have left home," she snorted. "This is something we would need to discuss with them before an unplanned pregnancy."

His wrists were pinioned but he laughed and, bending forward, used his lips to reach as many sensitive places as possible. "I promise that the very first thing I do tomorrow morning," he murmured, "is to go out and find some fennel. I'll make it a priority."

Rose sighed and, letting go of his wrists, wrapped him in her arms. "Promise?" she said.

"Promise," he responded. "And now," he continued, grabbing her nightgown by its hem, "can you please take this wretched thing off!"

Pt II

Rose and Telbarad had stayed for a couple of days, just until Emily had settled in. Poppy was delighted with this new toy. If only her parents had managed to have more children after her, then life would have been so much more fun. She would no longer have been the youngest and she would have had a sibling to boss around. She spent a lot of time in her bedroom with Emily, digging out a load of old clothes, dressing her up and tying ribbons in her hair as if she were a doll.

In the end, Emily overcame her shyness and told her that she didn't enjoy the game. She was much more into wearing boy's clothes and climbing trees and catching fish and standing on her head. And, although Emily looked very much like Poppy had done as a child with her bouncy, golden curls, her interests and temperament were totally different and Poppy began to get a bit bored with playing games of high adventure, battling orcs on the northern frontier, and Emily found herself often left to her own devices whilst Poppy made herself beautiful.

Tauriel tried to keep Emily occupied by inviting her to help her out with cooking and household chores, but Emily wasn't interested in that either. So, Tauriel found Arion's old set of elven and orcish soldiers and these hit the right note: after that, she spent a lot of time setting out her armies, just like Arion had done. "I'm going to be a Ranger when I grow up," she said. And Tauriel could well believe it.

Whenever Thorin was in the room, she couldn't keep her eyes off him. If he turned around too quickly, he would trip over her. She was missing her father very much and Thorin was her substitute. In the end, just to keep her out from underneath Tauriel's feet, he allowed her to sit in a corner of the forge and watch him at work. It wasn't that she was interested in being a smith like Rose had been: she just liked being with a man and she enjoyed the masculine nature of the forge.

When he had a bit of spare time, Thorin would watch her whilst she climbed trees, standing at the base of the trunk, ready to catch her if she fell. But she never did. It was amazing to see her scramble around in the branches, as sure-footed as a cat and Thorin gave her a nickname. "Come on down, Cat," he would say. "Time for tea." And, in the end, the name caught on with everyone.

They would also sit on the riverbank, fishing together, and sometimes he would try to improve her swimming. If she wanted to show off, she would somersault and cartwheel and stand on her head, much to everyone's amusement and Thorin asked how she had learned to perform these tricks. "My father taught me," she said, and then she went quiet for an hour whilst she remembered him.

When Thorin tried to console her by giving her a hug, she pushed his arm away and said that her father had been a soldier and that soldiers sometimes got killed. Rose had said she was a tough little thing and she was, thought Thorin.

One weekend, they all went up to the outpost together to visit Arion and she really enjoyed that. It reminded her of the camps in the North and she also enjoyed watching the elves practise swordplay and archery together. Arion found his small dwarven bow that Beorn had given him long ago and he taught her how to shoot with it. He picked her up and whirled her around, making her scream with excitement. "It's nice to have a new little sister," he said. And he felt as though he was somehow making up for the lack of interest he had shown in Poppy.

Poppy, meanwhile, showed no jealousy. She was too busy flirting with Lostwithiel (when her father wasn't looking) and when the elves showed admiration for Cat, she tossed back her head and smiled as if they were admiring something that belonged to her.

But Thorin was beginning to feel the weariness of becoming the father of a small child once more. He enjoyed Cat's company but the years of responsibility stretched out before him as his life grew shorter and he begrudged the time he spent with her rather than with Tauriel.

"Am I just being mean and horrible?" he asked his wife.

"No," she said. "You give so much of yourself that it's not surprising that you sometimes feel tired."

But she felt a bit worried occasionally and wished that Rose hadn't dropped this unwanted and unexpected gift in their laps.

.o00o.

Pt III

Cat had been there a month when Tauriel decided that they should all go up again to the outpost together. The little girl was pleased and Thorin was also pleased that she enjoyed the company of Tauriel's troop so much. The elves recognised a kindred spirit in the making and were always happy to see her.

He lifted her up upon his saddle-bow and they chatted together as they ambled up to the farmhouse.

"Did you enjoy living in the northern camps?" he asked.

Cat smiled and nodded happily. "All the Rangers used to play with me and they taught me all kinds of stuff. But," she said, trying to look very grown up and serious, "I'm very good at playing on my own because Father told me that I should learn not to bother people when they're busy."

"So, tell me about your father," the dwarf pursued.

The child smiled. "He was very handsome and very brave and very kind," she said. "But he always told me that, if he got killed, then I wasn't to cry but to remember all the times when we had fun together….And be very good for the people who got to look after me."

Then she looked up anxiously at him. "Have I been good?" she asked. Her father's opinion was obviously still very important to her.

"Yes, very good," said Thorin and she looked content.

At the outpost, they all had some food and then went about their business. Tauriel had paperwork to do and Thorin discussed battle tactics with three of the elves, including Arion. Half the troop were on patrol, others were out hunting and Lostwithiel had volunteered to stop behind and muck out the stables whilst they were vacated by the patrol.

"Would you take Cat out into the yard, Poppy," asked Tauriel, "and play with her?"

Poppy nodded reluctantly and went with the child outside. Both of them played in a desultory way at first, not really enjoying the choice of each other's games. Then Cat found a really interesting ants' nest in the corner of the yard which she began to poke experimentally with a stick. She became totally absorbed and Poppy, growing increasingly bored, drifted over to the stables. Inside, she found Lostwithiel working very hard. His sleeves were rolled up and the top buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing his muscular neck and arms. He had already mucked out six of the horseboxes, had packed each with fresh, sweet-smelling hay and was now grooming his own horse, Starlight, a handsome cream-coloured animal with a golden mane.

Poppy wandered into the stable and came over to stroke Starlight's mane. She looked seductively at Lostwithiel across the animal's neck. The elf lord smiled warily back at her. He had promised Thorin and Tauriel that neither he nor Roger would court her for a year but, whenever she came up to the outpost, she always seemed to be flirting with him in quiet corners and it was proving very difficult to keep his promise.

"Hello, 'Thiel," she murmured and her hand slowly caressed the animal's mane. Lostwithiel became absorbed by the movement of her hand. "His mane is the same colour as your hair, 'Thiel," she continued, "but I expect yours is a lot softer." And she ducked under the horse's head and reached up to touch the elf's striking blond locks. But Lostwithiel backed away. "Sorry, Poppy," he said, "but I promised your parents that I wouldn't court you for another year – and you're making it very hard."

Poppy grinned. "This isn't courting," she said. "It's only flirting." And she batted her long golden eyelashes at him in amusement.

Lostwithiel turned to pack his grooming kit away and said nothing but she noticed that his hands were trembling slightly. Poppy went up behind him and slid her arms around his waist. The elf jumped and Poppy's grin widened. It was just so boring being good, she thought, and obeying one's parents in all things. She didn't think she could hold out for a year and guessed that, if she pushed things, Lostwithiel wouldn't be able to hold out either. She noticed that his neck was growing pink and she tightened her hold. The elf gasped and then turned in her arms.

"I'd rather that you didn't do that, Poppy," he said rather stiffly. "I made a promise and I'm trying to keep it."

Poppy let out a little laugh and stood on tiptoes to kiss him on the chin. Lostwithiel flinched. "You've done such a good job in here, 'Thiel," she said. "And look at all that lovely hay. I expect it's soft and comfortable."

The elf's eyes flickered out through the open door in the direction of the farmhouse. "Don't worry about my parents," she said. "They'll be busy for hours yet." And taking him by the hand, she led him into one of the horse-boxes and pulled him down upon a mound of hay.

Out in the yard, Cat had lost interest in the ants' nest. She looked around herself and saw that she was alone. She didn't mind. As she had explained to Thorin, she was very good at playing on her own. And so, at first she pretended that she was being pursued by a band of orcs. She wrapped the elven cloak that her father had given her tightly around herself – all the better for concealment – and then slid from shadow to shadow, hiding behind various objects like the big water-pump and a tree and a mounting block so that the orcs wouldn't see her. Then she edged around the buildings and slipped behind the barn, peering out cautiously from time to time to check that none of the monsters were coming.

From the back of the barn, she noticed with interest that she had a good view of the neighbouring flower-meadows and paddocks. On the far side of one of the fields she could see a bright splash of colour, denoting a vivid spray of wild flowers. She paused in her game and wondered if Tauriel would like some flowers to brighten up her office. Deciding that she would, she climbed the five-bar gate and trotted happily across the meadow.

But, once she reached the flowers, just as she bent to pick them, she found she had an even more interesting view of a pretty copse in the distance, across the rocky hillside. There were doubtless mushrooms growing in its shade and even berries and nuts. She had loved gathering the fruits of the forest with her father and could already distinguish which mushrooms were the poisonous ones. The elves would probably like to have some bits and pieces for their cooking pot and so, leaving the flowers for a moment, she set out for the wood. And, just in case the orcs decided to follow her, she did her best to step from rock to rock, disguising her trail, just as her father had taught her.

But in the wood, there were some really interesting trees and she suddenly noticed a large and ancient oak. She couldn't resist it: she just had to have a climb. So climb it she did. But the tree was old and rotten and, half-way up, a branch broke and she fell, hitting her head on another branch on the way down. There was no Thorin to catch her and she landed with a thump in a deep pile of leaves at the base of the tree and her elven cloak covered her from view.

Back in the stables, a flushed Poppy and Lostwithiel were just picking themselves out of the hay. Well, that had been fun, thought Poppy. She totally trusted the elf in a way that she didn't trust Roger and he had shown considerable self-control. But it had been a very enjoyable kiss and a cuddle. They brushed themselves down and picked the straw out of each other's hair. "Better not leave any evidence," grinned Lostwithiel, "or your father will have my guts for garters."

And they went to the stable door and looked out surreptitiously. Suddenly Poppy gasped. "Where's Cat?" she cried and they both dashed out to have a look around. When she was nowhere to be found, Poppy knew she had to confess and ran into the farmhouse to tell her parents. "I only took my eyes off her for a minute," she wailed.

There was no time for recriminations. Thorin and Tauriel together with everyone left at the farmhouse ran off in all directions calling the little girl by name. They all used their tracking skills, but on the far side of the meadow, her trail seemed to go cold. After an hour, there was still no sign of her. Poppy burst into tears: "It's all my fault," she said.

"Let's see if we can find her first," said Thorin grimly, "before we decide to dish out any blame." And the fruitless search continued.

They were just about to give up in despair when a loud howling came from a nearby wood. "It's Warg!" yelled Arion and they dashed into its shade. Warg was standing at the base of a tree. He looked at them all as if they were the most stupid creatures on earth and then he bent and drew Cat's cloak to one side with his teeth. They all shouted in delight. Warg gave them one last, almost contemptuous snort and loped away into the shadows.

Thorin bent over the child and examined her. "I think she's only knocked herself unconscious," he said with relief and he carried her back to the farmhouse. Arion walked next to Lostwithiel with a worried look on his face.

"Why so glum, young soldier?" asked the elf lord. "Your pet has saved the day for a second time within a couple of months."

"Yes," answered Arion despondently, "but perhaps he'll only come to the rescue one more time and then I'll never see him again. You know the old saying: third time pays for all."

"Oh, I don't think you need worry there, Arion," the elf consoled him cheerfully, "because, unless it was one of the things you taught him, I don't think wargs can count." And they made their way laughing back across the meadow.

.o00o.

Pt IV

Emily was in bed for a few days with a sore head before they took her home. Thorin was too tired to yell at Poppy and his daughter was upset enough anyway. He always hoped optimistically that such incidents had taught her a lesson. Lostwithiel and Poppy also kept their escapade in the stables carefully from him.

But, as he rode down from the hills to the forge, Thorin sighed to himself and wondered inwardly, yet again, if he was up to coping with a small child.

A week after their return home, it was time for him to visit the Grey Havens on commission work once more. "Can I come too?" asked Poppy. "I see Lostwithiel so regularly that it seems unfair to Roger if I don't see him as well. In a year's time, I just might be biased in 'Thiel's favour." Thorin wasn't quite sure that he wanted his daughter to show such a bias and so agreed to take her.

"But only if you two don't go sneaking off on your own together," he said.

No fear of that, thought Poppy. Being on her own with Roger was not what she was after because she couldn't control him in the way that she could control the elf. But she thought it only fair that she saw both of them at regular intervals. She and her father had an open invitation to stay at Roger's house any time they were in town and she loved the luxury there and the warmth and affection of Roger's father.

But Tauriel had her usual weekly trip to the outpost and, rather than send for Dis, Thorin decided to take Cat into town with him too. She had never been to the Grey Havens and would probably enjoy the experience. Poppy crossed her heart and hoped to die if she lost sight of her foster sister this time and, besides, Roger's mansion was stuffed with servants who would be prepared to help as well.

Barnaby Waller's welcome was as warm as ever but as he came bustling into the room with Roger and saw Cat standing there, he froze on the spot, stared at her for a few moments and then spun on his heel and dashed out of the room without a word.

Thorin was taken aback and wondered if he had done something wrong but Roger approached them wide-eyed : "She's the spitting image of my little sister who died at about the same age," he said. And he bent down and picked up Cat and grinned at her. They all knew about the sister and understood that this was partly why Barnaby was so fond of Poppy: she was a grown-up reminder of the child he had lost. But Cat had had more impact because she was the same age.

"Perhaps we'd better book rooms in the Silver Bear," said Thorin worriedly. "I don't want to upset your father."

But, at that moment, Barnaby re-entered the room, blowing his nose and wiping his eyes. "No, I won't hear of it," he said. "It's just me being a bit silly." And he held his arms out to Cat and Roger passed her over. She was used to this pass the parcel because it had happened so frequently up in the camps but she really did seem to take to Barnaby and she gave him a sweet little smile and a kiss on the cheek because she could tell he was upset about something even if she hadn't followed the exchange of the adults.

For the next hour, Barnaby wouldn't let her go but carried her around his huge house showing her all the things that were to be seen. She had never been in such a mansion before and told him – much to his delight – that it was as beautiful as a fairy palace in one of her father's stories. In the morning room, she saw a painting of his daughter hanging on the wall. She immediately homed in on it and said: "Oh, that little girl looks just like me."

"Yes, doesn't she?" replied Barnaby quietly.

He took her to his daughter's old bedroom. No-one but his daughter had ever slept in it but, much to Roger's amazement, Barnaby asked Cat if she would like it for her room whenever she stopped there. Cat was thrilled because it was every little girl's dream – much the prettiest room she had ever seen. But when he opened the chest of old toys, she was not so thrilled because they were all a bit girlie.

"She's a little toughie," said Thorin. "She's been brought up by mostly male Rangers and she's got a boyish streak." But this did not deter Barnaby. Instead, he took her to Roger's old room and offered her the pick of Roger's toys. He then sat down and watched her play with them, deriving much amusement from the process.

Later that evening, Cat showed him her cartwheels and stood on her head which entertained him even further. "And don't let her anywhere near a tree without supervision," whispered Thorin, "or she'll be up it like a shot. She nearly killed herself the other day." And, of course, Barnaby had to hear the whole story and tutted to himself that the Oakenshields should be so careless of such a precious child.

"It's really weird," said Roger to Poppy. "She may look a bit like my sister but, otherwise, she's nothing like her. It's amazing that he finds her so appealing, particularly since you could say that she's rather like Rose – and he never approved of her."

Roger was, of course, very pleased to see Poppy. He tried to steal a kiss now and again in one of the mansion's many dark corridors, but Poppy always acted demurely and reminded him of his promise to her parents; and, at the thought of Thorin, he always drew back.

That night, Barnaby helped to put Cat to bed and told her stories until she fell asleep. He slipped out of her room humming quietly to himself and Roger hoped that this wouldn't all end badly. Poppy was a very important young woman in Barnaby's life and he was pushing hard for a marriage between her and his son and now he seemed to be fixating on this little girl too.

The rich merchant spent much of the following day in the company of the child. She found out in the end about his dead daughter and, to everyone's surprise, she sat out in the garden with Barnaby in the shade of a tree, and asked him all about her: what was her favourite toy, what was the colour of her eyes, did they spend a lot of time together, what did they like to do, what stories did he tell her and, of course, did she like to climb trees?

Barnaby had not spoken about his daughter since she died but now he found himself unloading all his memories on this calm-eyed and interested little girl. And it gave him a good feeling. That afternoon, he disappeared for some hours and returned late in the day with a tiny white pony which he presented to Cat. She couldn't believe that this nice gentleman was being so kind to her and she thanked him very much.

"Don't spoil her," said Thorin in an aside. "I made that mistake with Poppy."

"I don't think she can be spoiled," said Barnaby. "Her personality already seems established and she has a very sweet nature." And Thorin, thinking about things, had to agree.

The next day, Barnaby sat Cat on her new pony and paraded her around the town. Acquaintances waved or came up and greeted him and it gave him immense pleasure to show her off. But he also enjoyed taking her down to the quay where they sat quietly together and watched the ships come and go as they ate their sandwiches. She had never seen the sea or ships before and Cat was totally fascinated as Barnaby pointed out one of his own ships which had just come in.

"You OWN a ship?" she exclaimed wide-eyed, as if it were the most wonderful thing in the world. Barnaby was startled. No-one in his family had ever shown the slightest interest in his trading fleet – they were just a means of bringing in money. And he asked her if she would like to go on board the Nancy Sue and look around. And Cat reacted as if he had just offered to give her the most amazing thing ever.

And so it was with absolute delight that he conducted her around the ship. She was thrilled by everything – the tiny Captain's cabin, the hammocks on the crew deck, the tables swinging from ropes so that food and drink would not spill, the folding but elegant furniture in the Captain's dining room that could be packed away at a moment's notice in a storm or during a battle. Everything pleased her. At the end of the tour, she wasn't sure whether or not she wanted to be a Ranger or a sailor. They sat in the sun on the beach and watched the waves splashing on the shore. The white gulls wheeled and cried overhead. "I've had such a lovely day," she said. And she gave him a hug.

Over the next month, they visited Barnaby every week. And, at the end of the month, Rose and Telbarad came riding up to the forge again. Rose looked at Cat and saw that she was flourishing. "Well?" she asked with a gleam in her eye.

"Well," responded Thorin, "it's not as simple as you might think." And he told them both about Barnaby Waller.

Telbarad and Tauriel stayed at the forge while Rose and Thorin went to visit Barnaby. And the merchant told them without any hesitation that he wanted to adopt Cat. "And I'd like to apologise, my dear," he said to Rose, "for always moaning about you because you weren't like other girls. My Cat isn't like other girls either and I'm very, very glad. Now I know why Thorin thinks the world of you."

And then he and Roger travelled back to the forge with them and Thorin asked Cat if she would like to live with Barnaby and be his daughter. Cat cast Thorin a worried look and he knew why. He sat her on his lap and said: "You're a wonderful little girl and Tauriel and I just want you to be happy and, if going to live with Barnaby and having him as your father would make you happy, then that's what we want for you too. Don't think that we shall be upset because you haven't chosen us." And he gave her a kiss. And Cat had to admit that she loved Barnaby and wanted to go and live with him and Roger. And everyone cried because things had all worked out so well.

A few days later, alone with just Poppy once more, Thorin and Tauriel fell into bed with a big sigh.

"Are you disappointed in any way, Thorin?" asked Tauriel. "Do you wish that she had chosen you?"

"Yes," said Thorin, pulling a long face. "I'm feeling very, very rejected. I think I need a lot of kisses and a lot of hugs, not to mention a lot of you-know-what to aid my recovery." And he pulled her into his arms.

Tauriel laughed. "You old fraud," she said. "I don't think you're feeling rejected at all. I think you're quite relieved, so I don't believe you're exactly in dire need of all these hugs and kisses and you-know-what!"

"I'm always in dire need," grinned Thorin and he reached out and turned off the lamp.

.o00o.


	25. Chapter 25 Thorin and the Dilemma

This story concerns the private problems that Rose and Telbarad let slip in the previous episode: Thorin and the Fosterchild. I'm sure you'd like to know just a little more about THAT issue! As an interesting side note: a form of fennel which grew in North Africa was used hundreds/thousands of years ago as a contraceptive. It was so effective and popular that the plant was exhausted and that particular variety no longer exists.

.o00o.

THORIN AND THE DILEMMA

Pt I

Arion was working hard up at the outpost. Poppy was spending a couple of days with her Aunt Dis. At the forge, Tauriel was sitting astride Thorin's lap with a look of concentration on her face.

"Don't tug too hard," he said.

"No, I'm being careful," she replied.

The elf had already stood behind him and brushed her husband's hair – a job they both enjoyed. Thorin had closed his eyes and had wondered why it felt so sensuous when Tauriel did it in a way it never had done when he and his dwarf companions had groomed each other on their big adventure. "It's a woman's touch," she had laughed as she had drawn the brush through his long, dark curls.

Well, whatever it was, it felt really good, he thought. It was relaxing but tingly at the same time. And they were all on their own, he grinned to himself. Now she was sitting astride his lap ready to plait his braids in front of his ears. Her face was only inches from his own. She separated out a strand of hair and, with a slightly furrowed brow, she began the plaiting process.

It was morning and they had only just got up. Thorin had pulled on his breeches and Tauriel had wrapped a silken robe about herself and tied the cord. Now, as she carefully wove the lock of hair into a tight braid, Thorin studied his wife's face. Her skin was clear and without imperfections; her mouth was soft and gently curved; her lustrous hair tumbled forward, acting as a frame to her beauty. Thorin couldn't resist her but stealthily undid the cord and slid his hand inside the silken material.

"Stop it, Thorin!" she said, slapping his wrist. "I want to do this properly."

And he did stop for a moment. But, once she started on the second plait, his self-control failed him. He could put up with a wonky plait in return for the pleasure of a tumble with his wife. And he seized her by the hips, pulled her to him and clamped his lips upon hers.

They were so lost in each other that they both failed to hear the horse come into the yard and it was only when the door slammed open that they resurfaced with a startled exclamation. Tauriel leapt from Thorin's lap and hastily pulled her robe around her whilst Thorin grabbed his shirt from the back of a chair and flung it on.

"Rose!" they both yelped in unison, their faces flushed.

But they needn't have worried. Rose scarcely seemed to notice them but swept into the room, her cloak billowing out behind her and her long, black curls tumbling down her back in a dishevelled mess. She flung her pack down in the middle of the room. Her bosom was heaving and her face looked like a thundercloud: "I've left him!" she snarled.

Thorin and Tauriel stood there gaping.

"What? Who? Telbarad?" Thorin asked.

"Who else?" she snapped. And then she ran across the room and, flinging her arms around Thorin's neck, she burst into noisy tears. Then, after she had thoroughly drenched his shirt, she turned to Tauriel and cast herself upon the elf's breast and cried: "Oh, mother! What shall I do?"

She had been riding down from the North for a week now, travelling night and day, scarcely sleeping. She was scared he would catch up with her before she reached the sanctuary of the forge. And the further she rode, the angrier she got until all her emotions had burst in a tidal wave upon her father's shoulder.

They led her to a seat and sat either side of her, each clutching a hand and wondering what on earth could have happened.

"He hasn't hurt you, has he?" snarled Thorin. "Because if he has….."

"No," she whispered. "Of course not."

"Another woman?" asked Tauriel tentatively.

"No," she said, and she burst into tears again.

Tauriel drew her gently into her arms. "She's not ready to talk about it yet, Thorin," she said. "Go and make some breakfast and get her a nice cup of tea."

Thorin withdrew to the kitchen feeling upset and confused. In all the years he had known Rose, he had never seen her in a state like this. What had Telbarad done to her? It must have been something dreadful. And, if Telbarad had been present at that moment, he would have gone for his throat.

When Thorin re-entered with the tray of food and the pot of tea, Rose had calmed down. She sat up with them to the table and Tauriel served breakfast. They had just finished when the door crashed back on its hinges again and Telbarad stormed into the room. He was as dishevelled as Rose and there were dark shadows under his eyes.

"I knew you'd be here!" he shouted. Rose leapt from her seat and stood nose to nose with him. Thorin and Tauriel sat there with their mouths open. They had only ever seen Telbarad in his cool and calm mode and, as Thorin witnessed the fury in the Ranger's grey eyes, he was even more convinced that he must have hurt his daughter, whatever Rose said. He started to rise from his chair but Tauriel grasped him by the arm and drew him down again.

"How dare you run off in the middle of the night like that!" Telbarad yelled. "I woke up and had no idea where you had gone!"

"Well, you must have had some idea," Rose yelled back, "or you wouldn't be here, would you?"

"I had to wait until morning before I could check out your tracks," he snarled.

"That was the whole idea," his wife responded. "I wanted a head start…..And it looks as though I needed it!"

Telbarad seized her roughly by the arms and pulled her to him. "You'll have to run pretty fast if you think you can ever escape from me!" he said grimly.

And, at that, Thorin shook off Tauriel's grasp and, rising to his feet, growled: "Let go of my daughter, Ranger, or you'll regret it."

Telbarad released Rose but turned on Thorin: "She may be your daughter, dwarf, but she's my wife. Keep out of this or you'll be the one to regret things." And he bunched his fists.

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" snapped Rose, and, grabbing up her pack from the floor, she ran to her old bedroom, slammed the door and turned the key.

Telbarad stared after her for a moment and then, collapsing down on a chair, buried his face in his hands and shed tears of despair. "She wants to leave me," he wept.

Tauriel and Thorin had no idea what to do. In the end, Thorin patted him clumsily on the shoulder. "What's this all about, then, Telbarad?" he said in a dwarf-to-man voice.

Telbarad took the elf's offer of a handkerchief and noisily blew his nose. Tauriel poured him a cup of tea. "Has she told you anything?" he asked.

"Well, not yet," said Thorin, sitting down opposite him. "She's only just arrived."

Telbarad gave him a watery grin. "So, I nearly caught up with her," he said. "I've hardly stopped to sleep."

"And?" Thorin persisted.

"If she hasn't told you anything yet, then I don't think it's my place," the Ranger said.

So, the elf and the dwarf had to contain their impatience a little longer. They sorted out a guest room for Telbarad and he lay down to catch up on his sleep. They assumed that this was what Rose was also doing behind her locked door.

.o00o.

Pt II

But, Rose was lying awake on her bed, staring at the cracks in the ceiling. She was feeling a mixture of anger, distress and pain and she was wondering how her relationship with Telbarad had come to this.

Before her betrothal, Thorin had asked her what she would do if she married a Ranger and then had children. She had told him quite calmly and confidently that she would remove herself to Rivendell, as was traditional, and bring them up there. She had been so sure that she would accept it when the time came because it was the way of all Rangers. And then she had married Telbarad and the years had passed and she couldn't face the thought of leaving him, not even for a child.

Telbarad had felt the same way at first. He didn't want to be parted from her either. And so she had drunk her fennel draught and no pregnancy had occurred. But then, only a few months ago, they had taken responsibility for Emily or Cat as she had become known. Both her parents had been Rangers and both of them had died. Telbarad had been wonderful with her and the little girl had become very attached to him. Eventually, they realised that they needed either to give her to the elves of Rivendell or find a foster family for her. Rose had expected her own parents to take her on – but she had been very wrong there. They had fostered her only reluctantly and, in the end, she had been adopted successfully by the merchant, Barnaby Waller.

Cat had had an effect on both of them. Rose became even more convinced that they had to think very carefully before they had a child because what if both of them were to die? It wasn't surprising that so few Rangers had children when there was so much working against a decent family life. But, much to her surprise, his association with Cat only made Telbarad want his own children, whatever the difficulties. He had become very broody, she thought wanly to herself. Almost like a mother hen. He would try to talk about his need for a child but Rose continued to insist that she wasn't ready. And knocked back her fennel draught.

Apart from this one problem, Rose's life in the North was a very happy one. She didn't mind the hardships – they weren't nearly as bad as those she had endured when she was a child. Her job as a Ranger was very satisfying and she was good at it. She also did a limited amount of smithing and the men she lived alongside were very appreciative of her skill. But, most of all, she adored being with Telbarad. She sometimes wondered what would have happened to her if he hadn't seen her and rescued her that night at the Mithril Crown. Would she have married Roger or Darri or Lostwithiel? And she shuddered at the thought. When either of them went off on patrol without the other, she endured it but she found it painful. And the thought of being far away with her children in Rivendell without seeing him, perhaps for months on end, was just too much to bear. And, until Cat had come along, she thought that Telbarad was of the same mind as herself.

Things had come to a head when they had travelled to the forge to persuade her parents to look after Cat. The child had slept between them as they camped on the way down and then her husband had grinned when he saw the luxurious feather bed in the guest room. But as Rose had unpacked her bag, she suddenly realised that she had left her fennel draught behind. There had been a bit of an argument over whether or not they should risk things but she had finally given in when Telbarad had promised that he would look for fennel the next day. It was said that fennel had retrospective action and so she had hoped for the best.

But, the next day, Telbarad claimed that he could find none of the plant in the vicinity of the forge. She had wondered whether or not this was a ploy on his part so, as they journeyed home, she had looked for some herself, had found it on the second day and had taken a double dose. Then, three weeks later, she had experienced the most dreadful stomach cramps. The pain had been very intense and Telbarad, frightened by the state she was in, had called for the help of one of the older women. Rose was in agony all night and had finally had a miscarriage. She had been pregnant and the fennel, taken too late, had worked to terminate the pregnancy rather than prevent it. It was a shock for both of them and they grieved for the child they might have had but Rose felt angry that Telbarad had put her in this position in the first place.

But, she had always been pragmatic and, by the time they had set out again for the forge to see how Cat was settling in with Thorin and Tauriel, she had pulled herself together. She felt sorry for her husband but, at the same time, the question of children was beginning to lie like a shadow between them.

At the forge, they settled Cat satisfactorily with Barnaby Waller and then set off on the journey home. This time, Rose had made sure that she had her fennel with her. But things hadn't worked out well.

"Don't drink the fennel," Telbarad had pleaded with her. "I want a child, a child that looks like you, so that…" And he paused.

Rose knew what the unfinished sentence said. "….so that, when you die, years before me, I shall have something to remind me of what I have lost." And Rose didn't want to think about it.

Things just got worse over the next couple of weeks. And, finally, they had gone on patrol together. On the first night out, they had set up camp, lit a fire, cooked some food and then had got ready for bed. Telbarad spread an elven cloak over both of them and pulled Rose towards him. Only a few months earlier, she would have thrown her arms around him and kissed him passionately. But now, she was full of apprehension. As he tugged at her shift, she placed her hand on his chest and held him away from her. "I'll just get my fennel," she murmured, and she reached for her flask. But Telbarad had seized her by the wrist.

"Please, don't," he had whispered.

But, she had turned away from him and had picked up the flask with her free hand.

Telbarad's eyes flashed. "Is my opinion of no account?" he asked.

Rose didn't respond straight away. Then she answered his question with a question: "Is your love for me less than your desire for a child?"

Telbarad also paused. There were no simple answers. "I love you so much," he said passionately, "that I must have more of you. And a child would give me that."

"But your desire," she said sadly, "is not my desire. I love you so much that I want more of you now, in the present. And I cannot bear to fulfil your desire and then be forced to leave you." And she lifted the flask to her lips.

But Telbarad's lips compressed with anger and he suddenly dashed the flask from her grasp so that it smashed on the ground.

And that's when they both lost their tempers.

.o00o.

Pt III

Tauriel and Thorin were lying in bed worriedly trying to work out what the problem was between Rose and Telbarad. Having eliminated every other possibility, Tauriel finally concluded that it must be something to do with having children. Thorin had to admit that this was the likeliest bone of contention.

"But," he said, "I think that Telbarad is being very selfish. I know that he might find Rose ungainly and unattractive for a few months and there might be some time after the birth when they won't be able to do you-know-what, but he'll get over it like I did. And it's only natural for a woman to want babies."

But Tauriel shook her head. "No, Thorin, I think you've got it wrong," she said thoughtfully. "I think it's Rose who doesn't want children, at least not yet."

"Rose!" snorted Thorin in surprise. "Now why wouldn't she want children? She's a natural mother. Look how good she was with our two."

"Because," the elf replied, "I don't think she can bear to be parted from Telbarad."

"But, if Telbarad doesn't mind being parted from her….You're not saying that he loves her less?" And Thorin sounded concerned.

"No, but he's always been a Ranger and he has grown up with the idea of parting from the woman he loves once children come along. It's a new idea for Rose. And you've also got to consider the disruptions of her early childhood. We gave her the sort of security that she would want to replicate with her husband – we were always there. And I'm pretty confident that she is having trouble coping with the idea of leaving him."

"But," said Thorin, looking confused, "that's just what she's done now. She HAS left him! What's the difference?"

"You just don't understand women, do you?" grinned Tauriel.

No, I don't," said Thorin. "And that's after all these years of living with three of them."

"And by the way," said Tauriel digging him in the ribs, "are you saying you found me ungainly and unattractive when I was pregnant?"

"No, replied her husband. "I've always found you overwhelmingly attractive, whatever your condition – and that was part of the problem during and after pregnancy." And he nuzzled her neck. "Are you feeling sorry for the suffering you put me through, Tauriel?" he continued in his little boy voice.

"Just a tiny bit," she laughed, as he reached over her and turned off the lamp.

.o00o.

In the guest room, Telbarad wasn't asleep either. He had really messed things up, he decided, and now Rose might leave him. In his mind, he had trundled through all the events of the past few months and blamed himself for every wrong turn in their relationship.

He had thought that Rose was everything he would ever want or need – and she was, in just about every way. But when they had been obliged to look after Cat, not only had that been a very enjoyable experience, but it had made him think about his age. When Rose died, he would have, perhaps, another hundred years on his own once more. He knew he would never marry again and it seemed logical to have children. And he smiled as he thought of a little girl who had long, black curls, a child who would ease part of the pain of losing his beloved wife.

And so, he had broached it with Rose and she had said not yet, and, moreover, it sounded to him as if she meant this year, next year, sometime, never. It made him panic a little and push her harder. But the harder he pushed, the more resistant she became. Their love-making was just as passionate as ever but she was always very careful to take her fennel draught.

In the end, on the trip to the forge with Cat, she forgot. Rose wasn't keen to risk things but Telbarad gleefully thought that here was his chance and had brought considerable pressure on her. The next day, he was "unable" to find any fennel, but she found some of her own a few days later. Sadly, she was already pregnant. This had ended in a painful disaster and he had felt very guilty. But, by the time they had visited Ered Luin and Cat for the second time, he had gone back to applying pressure on her again.

Then, a couple of days ago, they had set out on a patrol together and Telbarad had decided he was going to settle the matter once and for all. They were both determined; they were both heated. And, in the end, he had struck the fennel flask from her hand. There had followed the most terrible argument and he played it all over again in his head.

After he had dashed the fennel to the ground, Rose had looked at the broken flask and then back at him. "How dare you?" she cried.

"I dare because I'm your husband," he retorted angrily, "and the matter of children isn't yours to decide alone."

"You sound just like a Rider of Rohan," she snapped. "You should have been born in Rohan and married a Rohan bride. You obviously want someone who bows to your every wish. But I'm afraid I'm not one of them."

Telbarad was insulted. "So, you'd compare me with one of the Rohirrim, would you? If that was so, you would have been pregnant a long time ago and you with no say in the matter." And he felt quite hurt that this was how she saw him.

Rose sat up. "Well, if you think I'm going to sleep with you tonight, you've got another think coming," she said angrily. And she moved to pick up her own elven cloak.

"Oh, no, you don't," he said furiously, grabbing her and dragging her back down again. "If you marry me then you sleep with me." And he pulled her tightly against him and kissed her hard.

But she struggled away from him. "Let go of me," she spat. "I don't belong to you and don't you ever think it!"

But he seized her wrists and rolled on top of her. "Well, let's just see if you belong to me," he snarled. "And if I say we're going to make a baby, we shall make a baby."

"Telbarad!" she cried, and suddenly he realised what he was doing. He rolled off her and turned his back on her, feeling confused and upset. Tauriel seized her cloak and moved to another spot in the glade.

She lay there for an hour, absolutely fuming. She couldn't believe what had nearly happened. How dare he! How dare he! Like Telbarad, she was hurt and confused. How could she possibly stay with a man who thought like this? Perhaps, next time, he really would force himself upon her. Well, she thought, she wasn't going to hang around, waiting for a next time. And, when she finally heard him snoring, she led her horse quietly away, then rode hell for leather to the safety and comfort of the forge.

When Telbarad finally woke up a few hours before dawn, he was ready to kneel to her and apologise. But, when he found her gone, his fear made him angry. Once the light came in and he could see her tracks, he thundered after her. And when he caught her, he would…he would…. Well, he didn't know what he would do but it would have to be something sufficiently satisfying to ease the pain in his heart.

.o00o.

Pt IV

When the four of them got up the next morning, they all sat around the breakfast table in complete silence. After they had finished, Tauriel cleared away the plates and then made the suggestion that she had made repeatedly down the years.

"Why don't you two go for a walk down by the river bank and have a little talk?" she said. Telbarad and Rose glared at each other and neither made a move.

Thorin stood up and snapped: "Well, if your mother says that you're to go down to the river bank, then down to the river bank you shall go!" And he glowered at them until they sullenly rose to their feet and, grabbing their cloaks, stomped out of the room.

"My, Thorin, that's a first," grinned Tauriel. "I've never heard you backing up my suggestion for the river bank before!" And Thorin had to laugh.

"Well, it just might work….. And I don't think I could stand sharing a room with them while they sat in silence for the rest of the morning."

"I don't think it will work," said Tauriel calmly. "They're still too raw yet."

"So, why send them down there, then?" asked Thorin in surprise.

"Because I want you to help me set up the guest bedroom for when they return," she said with a wink.

.o00o.

It was a cold, crisp day down on the river bank and Tauriel was right. They were having an argument again.

"Why did you lock yourself in your room yesterday?" Telbarad snarled. "Anyone would think you were frightened of me!"

"No-one frightens me," sneered Rose. "But it made sense not to take any chances."

"So, you think I would harm you?" And the Ranger's voice was hurt and angry.

"I don't know what I think any more," she retorted. "After the other night, I don't think I recognise you."

Her words cut like knives and lashed him into a fury. "So, what happens next? If you run, I shall follow you. And, believe me, I shall find you. And if you stay here, don't think that your father can protect you from me."

"Are you threatening me, Telbarad?" she asked and she stood inches from him and glared into his eyes.

"Perhaps," he hissed. But, in actuality, he didn't know what he meant. He only knew he wanted Rose back and he wanted things to be as they were before.

Rose turned on her heel. "Where are you going?" he shouted after her.

"Back to the forge," she yelled over her shoulder. "I don't feel safe on my own with you!"

.o00o.

When the two of them got back to the hall, Thorin and Tauriel were ready for them.

"No luck?" asked Thorin, raising an eyebrow.

"Not by a long shot," grunted Telbarad. And Rose glared at him.

"I'm working on a commission in the forge," said the dwarf to his daughter. "Come and help me with the bellows." And Rose flounced past Telbarad with her nose in the air.

"I'm making a cake in the kitchen," said Tauriel to Telbarad. "Come and keep me company." And the Ranger nodded curtly and trotted along after her.

In the forge, Thorin and Rose talked about this and that and, finally, he said: "Tell me about it, Rose."

She stopped working the bellows and, going to the door of the forge, looked out silently. When she turned back, he was sitting on the bench. He patted his knee and she sat on his lap and rested her head on his shoulder.

"It's a bit personal," she said.

"Well, I guessed it must be," he smiled, "but I'm getting quite good at listening to this personal stuff in my old age."

And so she told him all about their difference of opinion and how she had accidentally got pregnant and then had lost the child. He hugged her tightly then and she had a little weep. "Your grandchild," she whispered.

"There'll be others," he said.

"Will there?" she asked. "I'm not so sure about that."

"So, you're serious about leaving Telbarad, then?" he asked.

There was a long pause before she told him what had happened between them while they were on patrol. "He was going to force me, father," she said, weeping once more.

She felt Thorin tense and he hesitated before saying, "But, he didn't, did he?"

"No, but he's just made all kinds of threats down by the river."

Thorin stroked her hair and poked a stray lock behind her ear: "He's angry and upset," he said. "Just like you."

And then he told her something that had always been his secret. He told her how his unfounded jealousy had made him abandon Tauriel for a year until Bilbo had made him see sense and he had found her, pregnant with Arion, in Rivendell.

"I thought I was a bad man," he sighed, "and a bad husband."

Rose gaped. "Of course you're not," she exclaimed. "You're the best dad and husband ever!"

He gave her a crooked smile. "And how do you know?" he asked.

"I just KNOW," she said fiercely.

"And what do you KNOW about Telbarad?" he asked.

There was a long pause. "I know he's a good man and I love him," she said finally. "But that doesn't resolve the issue of children."

"Well," said Thorin. "There's always a compromise. I was ready to make a pretty big compromise when I thought that Arion wasn't mine. And I reckon Poppy will have to reach a compromise when she chooses between Roger and Lostwithiel.

Rose clapped her hands gleefully. "She's bound to choose Lostwithiel,"she laughed. "She said she would have him."

And then she looked serious again. "So, what compromises must I make with Telbarad?" she asked.

"Well, let's just say," said Thorin, "if you ever have children, there will always be a welcome here for you in this forge. It's a lot closer to the camps than Rivendell."

Tauriel was having a similar conversation about compromises with Telbarad in the kitchen. But his handsome face was troubled. "She's got to forgive me first and let me back into her bed before we can talk about compromises."

The beautiful elf smiled at him and patted his hand. "Well, I think we can help you out there. But you must have patience and she'll come around to the idea of children in the end. She's got all the makings of a mother."

Then it was lunch which was still a pretty silent meal. But Rose and Telbarad no longer glared at each other but gave each other sidelong glances instead. Thorin took Rose back out to the forge all afternoon until it was time for the evening meal. This time, they said polite things to each other like, "Pass the bread, please."

After they had all helped to wash up and tidy things away, Thorin took Tauriel firmly by the hand and said, "We're having an early night and so should you two. And, Rose," he said, turning to her, "your old room isn't an option."

Rose nodded and followed Telbarad meekly off to the guest bedroom. When they opened the door, they gasped, because the room was full of flowers and the bed was strewn with petals, like a bridal chamber.

"I think my parents want us to start from the beginning again," smiled Rose shyly.

"And, no pressure," said Telbarad, pointing to a flask of fennel that Tauriel had left by the side of the bed.

They undressed and climbed onto the soft mattress. Rose took a drink from the bottle and they lay down and wrapped their arms about each other. "Not yet, Telbarad," she whispered. "But soon, I promise you, soon."

.o00o.

Tauriel and Thorin lay in bed. Tauriel kissed her husband gently. "Now I thought, my love, that in six months or so, Poppy would make her choice and be off our hands and then we were going to enjoy being on our own at last. After all, wasn't that why you were so reluctant to take Cat?"

Thorin sighed. "It seems you can't always get what you want in life and I shall have to compromise too for the sake of a daughter I love. We shall have some time on our own at least. She's not going to turn up on our doorstep with a baby any time soon. Well," he grinned, "at least not for another nine months."

"Thorin," she whispered, "you are the best person I know and I thank my lucky stars every night that my horse cast a shoe a few miles from this forge all those years ago."

"I thank them, too," he smiled, gazing out of the window and up at a glittering constellation in the night sky.

"Well," she said. "You'd better get a move on. We've got a lot to fit in before those babies arrive."

"I'll do my best," laughed Thorin and drew her tenderly into his arms.

.o00o.


	26. Chapter 26 Thorin and The End

I wonder if I will need to hide behind the sofa after this one?

Poppy finally gets married and we come to the end of part of the story. This will be followed by a few more stories before we get to the real end with a postscript for Lostwithiel.

I'm not very good at ratings but I suppose that some people might consider that Poppy's wedding night teeters on the verge of an M.

Thank you, everyone, for following my stories all this way. The reviews have been lovely and are much appreciated!

.o00o.

THORIN AND THE END

Pt I

Thorin was working in his forge when Poppy suddenly appeared in the doorway. He was faintly surprised because it wasn't often that she visited him there. It was hot and dirty and noisy and wasn't exactly the sort of environment that appealed to his daughter's fastidious tastes.

"Are you busy?" she asked.

"Yes, I am," he smiled, "but I shall make time, just for you." And he wiped down a bench with a rag and bowed her in.

She was wearing a pretty white dress and she sat down cautiously. "Can I talk to you?" she said.

Thorin sat on a stool, leaned forward and waited.

"I've got a problem and I need your advice," she continued.

Thorin raised a surprised eyebrow. "Well, I'm honoured that you're asking me," he said, "but are you sure that your mother wouldn't do a better job?"

"Mother's too kind to me," she shrugged. "I'd rather ask you."

"Ah," he grinned, "does that mean that I'm the UN-kind parent?"

"Yes," she said bluntly. "You never tell me what I want to hear - you can be quite cruel sometimes – but you're always honest."

"Well," snorted Thorin, "that was a bit of a back-handed compliment."

"It wasn't supposed to be a compliment," said Poppy. "It was meant to be the truth."

"So, fire away," her father said, rather amused that his daughter preferred the brutal truth on this occasion and wondered what it was that was bothering her.

Poppy folded her hands neatly in her lap, looked down at her shoes and then up at her father's face. "Promise me you won't be angry with me."

Thorin frowned: "Why should I be angry with you?"

"Because I want to talk about something that, six months ago, you and mother said you didn't want discussed for a year,"

"Aha,"said Thorin. "A clue. It's not about Lostwithiel and Roger, is it?"

"Yes, it is," she pouted. "I really can't wait any more and I need to discuss it with someone. It's keeping me awake at night."

"No wonder you've got bags under your eyes," grinned her father.

Poppy's hand flew to her face and she looked horrified. "I haven't, have I?" she gasped.

"Only teasing," he laughed and she bent forward and dug him in the ribs.

"Now, stop it, father, or I shall go away."

He held up his hands and pulled an apologetic face. "Sorry, Poppy," he said and he gestured to her to continue.

"Well, both Lostwithiel and Roger are worth marrying but I don't know which."

"You could always do what Rose did and wait for a tall, dark and handsome stranger to come along," said Thorin. "There's no compulsion on you to marry either of your current suitors."

"I know there's not but I'm not like Rose."

That was true, thought Thorin, a little sadly.

"Rose wanted an epic love, just like you and mother," continued Poppy. "She wanted passion. And she has been prepared to put up with all sorts of dangers and discomforts in order to achieve that. Now me," and she also looked a little sad as she analysed her own nature, "I'm very, very practical. I think that some great passion might just be a nuisance."

Thorin widened his eyes and let out a burst of laughter. "A nuisance?"

"Yes, it seems to me that if you really and truly love someone unconditionally and they feel the same way about you, then it just gets in the way. If there's a lot of love, there's potentially a lot of pain. I would also have to give so much of myself to that person, it could stop me from doing what I wanted with my life."

Thorin felt just a little shocked. "That sounds a bit selfish, Poppy."

His daughter smiled wanly. "But I AM selfish, father. I thought you worked that out a long time ago."

He nodded curtly and she continued.

"I think that Lostwithiel and Roger love me just enough."

Thorin was aghast. "And you would be content to be loved just enough?"

"They love me enough that they would look after me and care for me and give me just about everything I want from life without expecting too much in return." Poppy saw the look on Thorin's face. "I think I could be happy with either of them, so it's not worth waiting for that grand passion which I don't want anyway."

Thorin stared at her and found he had to acknowledge that his daughter was a taker and not a giver. And he also acknowledged that, if this was the way she really was then both Roger and Lostwithiel were suitable mates.

"Do you understand what I'm saying, father?" she asked. He nodded slowly. "So, now, my only problem is: which one of them do I choose?"

He went to open his mouth and she held up a hand: "And before you suggest that we all sit around the table like we did with Rose whilst each suitor lists all his qualities and competes for my hand, then, no! Absolutely not!"

"So, what ARE you suggesting?"

"I just want to talk it through with you – my very honest and sensible father. And then I think that it will all become clear." And she smiled and patted his hand.

"So, let's start with Roger," said Thorin tersely.

"Well, I see Roger as a bit of a package deal. He comes with a big house, plenty of money and a father who thinks I'm totally wonderful. They could also offer me the sort of lifestyle that would suit me. They want an attractive hostess and that quite appeals to me. I'm not interested in being a smith or a guardian of our borders but I am interested in wearing beautiful gowns and arranging dinner parties and entertaining fashionable and elegant guests."

"Sounds perfect," said Thorin. "So, what's the problem?"

"The problem is that I like him as a friend but I don't love him."

Thorin felt confused. "But I thought you said that you didn't want love?"

"I said I didn't want a grand passion," Poppy corrected him. "But I would prefer to love the man I marry if only a bit. And you remember when you found us in the library?"

"Yes, I remember," Thorin said grimly.

"Well, I let him kiss me in the library to see what I thought...And I didn't like it very much. He was very forceful and he stuck his tongue down my throat."

Thorin held up a hand and shut his eyes. "Too much information," he said, wincing.

"No, it's not," said Poppy firmly. "How are you going to advise me if you don't know all the facts?"

Thorin looked resigned.

"You'll be pleased to know that I was glad when you walked in that night. It was getting a bit scary. And I have thought since then: Do I want to marry Roger and be obliged to go to bed with him every night even if he comes with a big house and a generous father?"

Thorin frowned as he thought about the matter. He didn't want to dismiss Roger when the alternative was Lostwithiel. "He's only an inexperienced young man at the moment," he offered. "Surely the two of you can learn about the physical side of love together?"

"Yes, that's what I thought," nodded Poppy. "And that's why I haven't crossed him off my list."

"And what about Lostwithiel?" Thorin asked.

"I've always wondered about you and Lostwithiel," Poppy suddenly said.

"I thought this was about your relationship with him, not mine," growled Thorin.

"But you have a bias against him, don't you?" persisted Poppy. "So, I'm wondering how you can advise me when you don't seem to like him." And she cocked her head on one side and looked at her father curiously.

"Lostwithiel is a friend," Thorin answered stiffly. "We've been through a lot together. So, don't you worry that I'll be unfair."

But Poppy persisted. "Rose told me that you beat him up once, before I was born – about that time that you made your famous stand against the orcs."

Thorin spluttered. "I didn't beat him up. We just had a fight – and we forgot about it afterwards."

"I wonder what the fight was about," Poppy mused. And when her father just compressed his lips and looked away, she laughed. "You know, I'm not so stupid that I can't read the undercurrents between you two." She stared at him a bit longer and Thorin coloured up. "Hmmm," she said. "Perhaps I should ask my mother about it."

Thorin's head snapped up. "Don't you dare, Poppy," he barked.

"Then you'd better give me a fair opinion about Lostwithiel or I shall wonder why," she said with a sly grin. "And," she said softly, "perhaps all that to-do is a good example of why I'm avoiding a passionate love."

"So," said Thorin, keen to change the subject, "tell me about Lostwithiel."

Poppy smiled. "Well, I've loved him all my life, even if you would probably say that it's not the sort of love that you feel for mother or Rose for Telbarad."

"So, what sort of love is it?" asked Thorin curiously.

Poppy thought hard. "I've always been very comfortable with him. I like sitting on his lap and holding his hand and snuggling up to him. I like being in his company and he makes me laugh."

"Is that enough?" asked her father.

"Perhaps not, but when I kissed him six months ago, it was more than just very nice. I felt safe with him and I wanted things to go further. So, I suppose that must have been a good sign."

Thorin didn't like the idea of his daughter going "further" and was glad he had interrupted them at the waterfall but he had to agree that this seemed promising. And so he said resignedly: "Well, it seems to me that Lostwithiel is the one, and so...?"

Poppy sighed. "Can you imagine me living in those spartan married quarters up at the outpost, helping to clean the farmhouse and cooking for the men for a whole lifetime?"

"No," said Thorin bluntly.

She reached out and touched his hand. "You see, this is why I wanted to discuss it with you. Mother would have argued backwards and forwards, trying to persuade me that I could cope – all in the name of love. But, you understand me, father. You know that I'm not a very giving person. I'm not even very nice."

Thorin squeezed Poppy's hand. "Yes, I do understand you but I think you're very hard on yourself. There are a lot of wonderful things about you and I don't want to hear you say such things again."

He stood up and pulled her to her feet and hugged her. "Now, if you don't mind, I think it might be useful if I were to go and visit Lostwithiel and have a little chat with him."

Poppy hugged her father back and gave him a kiss. "Yes, please," she said. "I feel as if I need a bit of third party interference here, particularly when the third party is you."

.o00o.

Pt II

Thorin told Tauriel the whole story in bed that night. "I'm glad she spoke to you and not to me," she said. "She's right when she says that I would be too nice about things. And I like both Roger and Lostwithiel, so I would have swung from one to the other until the poor girl would have been more confused than ever."

She put her arms around him. "But perhaps she's more in love with Lostwithiel than she thinks. After all, I like kissing you and holding your hand and sitting on your lap and snuggling up to you, just like she does with Lostwithiel." And she demonstrated this with a snuggle.

"Ah, yes," murmured Thorin, "but does she like doing this...or this...or this?"

"Give her time," giggled his wife. And his blue eyes turned black with passion as he pulled her into his powerful arms.

.o00o.

Thorin set off for the outpost the next morning after kissing his wife and daughter good bye. Lostwithiel was surprised to see him but he was made very welcome by the elf lord and the rest of the troop.

"I've come to have a few private words with you, Lostwithiel," he said. The elf looked startled and the dwarf's stern countenance made him feel uneasy. What now, he thought? But he showed him into Tauriel's office, then sat down to await his fate.

"Don't look so worried," said Thorin. "I'm not here to tear you off a strip about anything – unless, of course, you know something that I don't know." He raised an eyebrow and the elf looked guilty. Thorin burst out laughing. "I seem to have this knack, Lostwithiel, of making you squirm even when you've got nothing to squirm about." And he clapped him on the shoulder.

"You might be pleased to know," he continued, "that I've come to talk about Poppy." But this news made the elf look more anxious than ever.

Thorin gave him an amused look. "Are you frightened of me, Lostwithiel?"

"Yes," answered the elf bluntly. "I never know which way you mean to jump and you always look as though you want to punch me on the nose."

Thorin let out another bark of laughter: "Well, perhaps that's because I do. But, I suppose, since you might be joining my family, I'd better start working on my people skills." And he adjusted his face into a pleasant smile whilst Lostwithiel looked more wary than ever.

"Your family?" he asked.

"Yes, I've come to discuss whether or not you should marry Poppy."

The elf's mouth dropped open. "But I thought we weren't supposed to discuss this for another six months?"

"I've changed the rules," said Thorin calmly.

"See what I mean about not knowing which way you will jump next?" muttered Lostwithiel.

"Keeps you on your toes," grinned Thorin. "Now let's get down to business." He leaned back in his chair. "Well, she loves you but she's thinking of marrying Roger."

The elf looked confused. "But, if she loves me..."

"Well, in Poppy's world, that's not necessarily the way things work. You must know her after all these years – and if you don't, then you really shouldn't be thinking of marrying her or marriage might turn out to be an unpleasant surprise."

"Of course I know her," Lostwithiel retorted. "She's very pragmatic and a bit selfish."

Thorin gave him a look.

"All right – very selfish. But she's also brave and kind and she's capable of real love. Just look at the way she feels about you and Tauriel."

Thorin grinned to himself. Perhaps this elf would make a better husband for his daughter than he had first thought. He decided to be nice. "Since she loves you, I suppose I would prefer it if she married you rather than Roger whom she merely likes. But he can offer her a luxurious life-style, the sort of life-style that you really must concede would suit her better than what you could offer her up here."

The elf looked downcast. "I want the best for her," he admitted, "because I love her. And so perhaps she would be better off marrying Roger." And he slumped in his chair looking miserable.

"Oh, for goodness' sake, man," snapped Thorin. "Don't you believe in fighting for what you want?"

"I want her to be happy," Lostwithiel snapped back. "If she's unhappy with me, she'll just pack her bags and move back down to the forge. Or, even worse, go running after Roger in the Grey Havens. And I couldn't bear that!"

And Thorin remembered how he had been afraid that Tauriel would get bored with her life at the forge. He remembered how much that thought had tormented him, and he suddenly felt a connection with Lostwithiel.

"How much are you prepared to give up for Poppy?" Thorin suddenly asked. "You're a wealthy elf lord. When I first met you, you were a courtier from Mirkwood - elegant, suave, beautifully dressed – much more Poppy's thing. Couldn't you return to that life?"

There was a long pause.

"Or, to put it another way," continued the dwarf, "is Poppy worth it?"

"Of course she's worth it," Lostwithiel sighed, "and I've already seriously considered giving up my position here and returning to an idle life either in the Grey Havens or Mirkwood. But, in the same way as I'm worried that Poppy won't be able to cope with the outpost, so I'm afraid that, in the end, I won't be able to cope with a return to my former life of ease." He stood up and walked to the window.

"You know," he continued, "I've learned so much up here both from Tauriel and the experience itself. I'm not the same person I was and defending our borders has given me a purpose. I'm frightened that any discontent for me in the Grey Havens would result in constant bickering and unhappiness for both of us."

Lostwithiel had obviously thought about things seriously and Thorin, for the first time, found himself feeling some respect for the elf. He leaned forward: "Then what about a compromise?" he said.

.o00o.

A few hours later, they came riding down together from the farmhouse. Tauriel and Poppy were expecting only Thorin so they were surprised when Lostwithiel came too.

"He's come to talk things over with Poppy," Thorin said and somehow expected that they would all have a family conference. But Tauriel shooed her daughter and the elf out the door. "It's lovely down by the river," she said. "I expect you two have got a lot to say to each other."

Thorin glared at Tauriel. Not the river bank again! But she just ignored him and waved the pair off. "You're just encouraging them to get up to mischief," he muttered.

"No, I'm encouraging them to sort their lives out," she replied. Then she made him sit down and then she perched herself upon his lap and asked him how his chat had gone with Lostwithiel.

"Well," he said, "we discussed how he and Poppy could reach some compromises."

"Such as?" she asked with interest.

Thorin kissed her lips and then he kissed her throat. "Do you think they'll be gone for some time?" he said huskily.

"Such as?" repeated Tauriel, trying to ignore him.

"You're a hard woman," Thorin sighed as Tauriel brushed away a caressing hand. But then he looked quite pleased with himself. "I think I came up with some good ideas," he said. "One of Poppy's complaints is about the rather grim accommodation at the outpost. And so I suggested that, if nice accommodation doesn't exist, then he should build her some."

"Like a lovely house rather than just one room: a small manor in a nearby, pretty glade with a beautiful view," Tauriel put in excitedly.

"And I think that the two of them should design it between them so that Poppy feels it belongs to her and is proud of it," continued the dwarf.

"Right. And he should let her buy some lovely elven furniture so that it all looks elegant and charming. Perhaps you could make a financial contribution there," she said, "as a wedding present."

Thorin made a quick calculation in his head and wasn't so sure about that. "I know what you're thinking," tutted his wife, and she gave him a look that made him feel a bit mean.

"Now," he said, "the most important thing is that she should have servants to clean and cook and keep a garden looking beautiful – servants she can order around so that she can feel like a lady and not a housewife. I expect that some of the young dwarves from the settlement or a few girls or lads from the Grey Havens would be very pleased to get a job there. And then, with the help of these servants, she can organise some nice little dinners and even some elegant soirees for the troop and people from round about so that she can live out her fantasy of being a successful hostess. And I'm sure, actually, that everyone will be pleased that she has brought a bit of fun to the area."

"And," chimed in Tauriel again, getting quite carried away, "they could buy that derelict plot at the Grey Havens where you had that forge and they could build themselves a lovely weekend house there with a view of the sea and then she could join in all the parties going on down there on a regular basis."

Thorin looked grumpy. "I wanted that plot," he said. "I thought we could have a weekend house there ourselves once all the children were gone."

"Don't be selfish," she said. But Thorin continued to glower. So, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him into a good humour. "Those are brilliant ideas," she whispered. "Poppy should be really grateful that she's got you for a father. If this marriage doesn't work, it won't be for lack of trying."

Down on the river bank, Poppy was feeling very excited with the compromises that Lostwithiel had suggested. The thought of an elegant little manor house all of her own up in the hills had really appealed to her and now she was showing her appreciation. She shut her eyes as Lostwithiel took her in his arms and his kisses were just as delightful as they had been at the waterfall. "Will you marry me?" asked Lostwithiel when he managed to drag his lips away from hers for a few moments.

"We'll exchange rings tomorrow," she breathed against his mouth. But when they returned to the forge, Tauriel insisted that first they had to go together to tell Roger and his father their decision. They looked at each other. They guessed that this would be a difficult and embarrassing task, but they knew that Tauriel was right.

"And then," said Thorin, "we can start on the house and, as soon as it's finished, you can get married. Perhaps in six months and not a year."

The two left for the Grey Havens the following day and Thorin and Tauriel found themselves alone, a foretaste of what it would be like after Poppy got married. When Poppy and Lostwithiel's horses had disappeared off down the road, they stood blinking at each other. "It's a strange feeling," said Tauriel.

"We can kiss each other and do OTHER things without any fear of being interrupted," grinned Thorin.

"But, can we be bothered, now that we can?" sighed Tauriel, with a yawn. "Somehow, all the excitement goes out of things once there's no danger of being caught."

"Well," said Thorin, "you can leave me to feel all the excitement for both of us if you like." And he threw his giggling wife over his shoulder and made for the bedroom.

.o00o.

Pt III

The next few months passed in a whirl for the family. Lostwithiel and Poppy designed their house and Thorin organised a group of dwarven masons to build it up on the fringes of the farmhouse. Tauriel and Poppy went regularly to the Grey Havens to organise the furnishings for her new home and potential servants and gardeners were interviewed and chosen for when the work was finished. Lostwithiel checked out the burned down house and purchased the plot for a good price. He arranged to have the area cleared but they would build their home there after they were married.

The interview with Roger and his father when they had explained that Poppy was going to marry Lostwithiel had been a bit upsetting, mainly because Barnaby had been quite distressed at the thought that Poppy would not be joining his family. But he had his own adopted daughter, Cat, now to focus on and, after Poppy had coaxed him along, by the time they had left, he was wishing them well.

Much to Thorin's relief, although they were betrothed, the two had not asked if they could make up the double bed when Lostwithiel came visiting. However, they were sometimes found a bit flushed and dishevelled in a dark corner. "Well, there's always the river bank, if you but knew it," Tauriel had said to the dwarf.

"But I don't know it," said Thorin, "and that's the way I like it."

When Arion came to stay and sussed out the situation he said: "See, I told you that Lostwithiel could always be expected to behave properly."

If only you knew, thought Thorin. But he had NEARLY forgiven the elf lord for that incident with Tauriel all those years ago.

He sent messages to Bilbo, inviting him to be a guest, and to Elrond, asking him to perform the ceremony. Large silken pavilions were set up in the flower meadows surrounding the farmhouse and, at last, everything was ready and the day came.

The wedding guests began to assemble at the outpost and, although the new house was finished, not all the furniture had arrived. But, some beds were set up there and, between the farmhouse, the guest accommodation, the manor and the tents, there was sufficient space for everyone.

The day before the wedding, Rose and Telbarad arrived, much to everyone's joy. They had collected Dis on the way and, following them closely, came Elrond and Bilbo with a great troop of elven lords and ladies. These greeted the happy couple and gave them gifts but then they passed onwards down to the Grey Havens.

"I want to speak to the whole family about something important," said Elrond, the night before the wedding. And so they all gathered around the table and waited, wide-eyed with curiosity, to hear what Elrond had to say.

The elf lord looked at them one by one and his face was very grave. "A great evil threatens Middle-earth," he said, "and it is doubtful whether or not we shall stand or fall. The power of the elves is waning along with the power of our rings: Narya, Nenya and Vilya. Our time here grows less and, over the coming years we must decide whether to leave and go into the West to the Undying Lands or stay and fade and die." Tauriel guessed what was coming and she reached out and clasped Thorin's hand.

"The company of elves who came with me today have passed on to the Grey Havens," he continued. "There, they will take ship and go into the West. They are the first of many. Only the elves may sail on these ships," and he paused and looked at Lostwithiel and Tauriel, "or the half-elven, like myself and like Arion and Poppy. For the men of Numenor, like Telbarad, and for the race of Men, like Rose, there is no place."

"And no place for any dwarf either," grunted Thorin, glancing at Dis.

"Ah, Thorin," smiled Elrond, "there you are wrong."

Tauriel looked startled. "You are going to name him elf-friend," she said.

"Elf-friend?" asked Thorin.

"The Council of Elves have decided to name you elf-friend for all that you have done for Middle-earth. There is a place for you and your elven wife on the ships to the Undying Lands whenever you choose to take it."

Thorin stared at the table for a long time. "It was easier when I had no choice," he finally said. "In about 50 years, I was going to die and Tauriel would live. We had learned to accept it. And now," he said almost angrily, "you offer me a choice. I must choose whether to go on the ships with my wife and live for all eternity with ELVES!" And he let out a bark of laughter. "Or I can choose to stay here and lead a mortal life with my sister, Dis, and with my daughter, Rose." Then he turned to his wife. "How can I make such a choice, Tauriel?"

She touched his hair gently. "We are all faced with a choice here, my love, whether to go or whether to stay."

Arion was looking upset. "I don't want to go without Rose," he said. "It's not fair." And Thorin could see the stubborn dwarven set of his jaw.

Elrond raised a hand. "You need make no decision yet. But there is a place for you on the ships, Thorin, when the time comes." He looked at them all gently and with love. "This is supposed to be a gift, on the night of Poppy's wedding. It is not meant to make you sad or miserable. And you have a few years to think about it before the last ship leaves. I myself will not go until the very end but, after the wedding, I shall travel to the Grey Havens to bid my friends farewell."

The wedding was a very beautiful and very joyful occasion. Poppy looked lovely in a flowing cream dress covered in tiny silk flowers. Rose accompanied her and carried a large basket of petals that she cast upon the wind as Thorin led her to the table where Elrond awaited them before the largest of the silk pavilions. Lostwithiel looked so handsome that Poppy sternly told her heart to be still: it would be really inconvenient if she fell TOO much in love with him.

And then they feasted and danced and sang into the night until the stars and moon glittered brightly upon them. Finally, Lostwithiel and Poppy withdrew to the guest accommodation which had been transformed with flowers by Tauriel and Rose into a lovely bower in readiness for the happy couple.

"Much against expectations," said Thorin as he squeezed into the narrow bed at the farmhouse with Tauriel, "I think they'll be happy. But," he amended, "not as happy as us. No-one could be as happy as us."

And then they both remembered their first night together in Lake Town and, thinking of young love, Tauriel said: "Let's recapture the moment, Thorin." And he made love to her very gently and very tenderly and both of them tried not to think about the future and the choices that Elrond had given them.

.o00o.

The door had shut gently upon the newly-married couple and Poppy and Lostwithiel found themselves alone in the flower-strewn room. They stood either side of the big bed, its coverlet scattered with rose petals, and they both suddenly felt very shy. For the past six months, they had snatched breathless moments together in quiet corners and had felt flustered and guilty whenever anyone had caught them kissing each other.

But Poppy had realised that her father preferred and even approved of such furtive goings-on and so had not asked to make up the double bed. Lostwithiel was in total agreement. "Goodness, no!" he had exclaimed when she had discussed it with him. "The thought of sleeping with you and - um – doing things, with Thorin only a short distance away, on the alert for every creak – well – it just makes my toes curl." And a shudder ran through him.

And so they had carried on, stoking up their passion, gasping and panting and feeling quite desperate at times, but the thought of Thorin always managed to throw a bucket of cold water over things when they teetered on the edge of going too far.

Poppy was surprised at how aroused Lostwithiel made her feel. "But it's just frustration," she assured herself. After they had done the deed, she was pretty confident she would be in control again. She didn't much like the dizzying sensation of being swept off her feet and she would be glad when it was all done and dusted.

Lostwithiel was also surprised at the intensity of his feelings. He thought he had loved Rose but that feeling was as nothing compared to what he now felt for Poppy. The wedding-night could not come fast enough for him and he had taken a whole load of cold baths in the past few weeks to cool his ardour.

Apart from the thought of Thorin, the other thing that controlled his actions was the memory of that horrible time when he had forced himself upon Tauriel. He would never - ever – treat a woman like that again. And he was determined to follow Poppy's wishes and desires in all matters related to the bedroom.

But now they faced each other and neither knew how to start.

"Err," said Lostwithiel. "Would you like a glass of wine?" And he gestured to a decanter by the side of the bed.

"No, thank you," said Poppy primly.

Lostwithiel edged around the bed and took her hand. He bobbed his head down to kiss her just as she jerked her head up to kiss him. Both were determined to take the bull by the horns and only managed to knock noses together.

"Sorry!" they both muttered at the same time.

Then Lostwithiel noticed a very beautiful lace nightgown that was draped across the pillow.

"Umm, that's very pretty," he said. "Shall I help you on with it?"

She nodded and her hands began to fumble with the silk buttons on the front of her bodice.

But the elf lord gently moved her hands away. "I'll do that," he said.

She looked up at him and he looked down at her, his fingers trembling slightly as he released her from the bodice. How very handsome he was, thought Poppy. She suddenly had an overwhelming urge to kiss those finely-chiselled lips and began to look forward to what was coming next.

All the buttons were undone and Lostwithiel carefully slid her dress off her shoulders so that the garment slowly slithered down around her ankles to the floor. Poppy stepped gracefully out of the pool of shining material and was left standing in a silken undergarment that clung enticingly to her shapely form.

Lostwithiel felt quite light-headed and took a deep breath.

"Shall I undo your shirt now?" Poppy asked.

He nodded, not able to speak. And so she undid all the buttons down the front of the elf's silken shirt and pushed it from his shoulders to fall upon the floor along with her dress. He was now naked from the waist up and her eyes widened when she saw how beautiful he was. She reached up to touch his strong, smooth chest and then she ran her hands down the muscles of his arms so that he quivered.

"You feel lovely," she breathed.

"And now it's my turn," he whispered. He took the short undergarment by its hem and drew it slowly over her head. She was startlingly naked underneath and Lostwithiel swallowed hard at her loveliness. Poppy shyly crossed her arms in front of herself but he took her by the hands and stared at her. "I've never seen a woman naked before," he said, "and I didn't realise..." And he stuttered to a halt.

Her golden hair fell upon her shoulders and he reached out to touch it gently. And then he let his hands drift slowly down to cup her breasts. He shut his eyes as a great wash of desire ran through him. "It feels...it feels so..." And again he couldn't find the words but, instead, he just decided to experience the exquisite sensation of that soft flesh yielding in his palms.

He gave a great sigh, his arms went around her and he pulled her to him. Their lips came together at last and they kissed each other fiercely. Her naked breasts pressing against his naked chest made them both feel dizzy with longing.

He picked her up and laid her upon the bed, and the pretty nightgown was brushed, forgotten, onto the floor. He sat down and pulled off his boots and then his breeches and, when he turned around, it was Poppy's turn to be startled. The next part of this love-making business was going to be unknown territory – for both of them. And she wondered what sort of a mess they would make of it.

Lostwithiel lay on the bed facing her. He kissed her gently and said: "I'm sorry that I'm so ignorant and I hope I don't hurt you because of it but – um – I haven't done this before."

"I know," she said, "but let's try to work it out together. My mother and father had to do the same once themselves and they survived it." And they both giggled together and Lostwithiel found it almost impossible to imagine the oh-so-masculine and arrogant dwarf ever having to fumble around in bed like he was sure he was about to do.

Their laughter relaxed them a bit. Lostwithiel's hand went back to her breast and his thumb caressed her nipple. "Let's just do what we feel like doing," he said, and she murmured an assent.

"This is what I feel like doing," he whispered and his head dipped down to suckle at her breast.

She squirmed with pleasure and panted out, "And this is what I want to do." And she ran a curious hand down the flat and muscled planes of his belly and grasped the very interesting object protruding from between his legs. Then she laughed softly as he groaned and flinched because his reaction made her feel her power.

There followed a time of exploration until they were both breathing heavily and gasping for breath. "Shall I try now?" said Lostwithiel.

"Yes, please," she said and her body pressed against his yearningly.

He fumbled between her legs. "Sorry - umm - sorry," he kept muttering but, in the end, their own bodies showed them the way and he suddenly slid inside her.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked anxiously.

"No, no," she panted and she began to move against him.

He rolled on top of her and a rhythm built up naturally. Poppy clutched at him, enjoying the sensation and yet feeling she was chasing something elusive. Lostwithiel became caught up in a private world of intense stimulation that swept over him in waves until his body felt completely out of control.

Suddenly he jerked in spasm after spasm that were so violently pleasurable that he couldn't stop himself from crying out and then collapsing upon his wife. And to think he had waited more than a thousand years for this moment! He lay upon her, gasping and trembling and Poppy stroked him gently, experiencing a strange feeling of tenderness. But, Lostwithiel thought that he had failed her. "You should have felt that too," he said.

"It doesn't matter," she said softly. But he didn't hear her because he had fallen fast asleep.

She snuggled up to his beautiful body, gently touching and caressing him as he breathed softly beside her. She knew there was something more which she had missed out on, but even without that elusive unknown, it had all been pretty wonderful and she giggled to herself at the thought of getting into bed with Lostwithiel and his lovely body night after night. She fell asleep then but was awoken a couple of hours later by her new husband nuzzling her breasts once more and gently nudging open her legs.

"Let's try again," he murmured. "And, this time, it's for you."

It certainly was, thought Poppy some time later. And, as she exploded and splintered into a thousand shards, she only felt the slightest annoyance that she was now as much Lostwithiel's as he was hers.

.o00o.

The next morning, many of the guests departed but all the Oakenshields, as well as Bilbo, planned to return to the forge for a family celebration together. Elrond intended to accompany them as far as the crossroads before travelling onwards to the Grey Havens. The young lovers emerged from their guest suite, holding hands and looking shyly at each other. There was a lot of gentle teasing around the breakfast table and both of them blushed and protested at the jocularity. Thorin was amused to see how demure Poppy had become and thought that her behaviour was a likely sign of how successful the wedding night had been. He grinned across the table at Tauriel and she smiled back. A feeling of relief swept over him that he had now unloaded both his daughters, apparently quite successfully. Two children down and one to go. But Arion seemed bound up in his job and a long way yet from being interested in getting married.

After breakfast, Thorin, Telbarad, Arion, Lostwithiel, Elrond and Bilbo mounted their horses, while Tauriel, Rose and Dis climbed into the trap so that they could have a good gossip and share in a blow by blow analysis of the wedding. But Poppy didn't want to be parted from Lostwithiel and he set her before him on his horse. They lagged slightly behind the party, spending a lot of time gazing into one another's eyes. "Yuck!" said Arion to Bilbo. "I never imagined that Poppy would become so soppy!"

But Bilbo just laughed in response and said: "Well, if you think that's soppy, then you should have seen your mother and father in Rivendell before you were born." And Arion looked at Thorin and Tauriel and found it difficult to imagine that his grumpy father or his sensible mother could ever have been soppy together.

Lostwithiel was now whispering intimately into Poppy's ear and Poppy was giggling. Arion cast his eyes up. "Well, you don't have to look, you know," laughed Telbarad. "When it's your turn, you'll be just as bad."

"No, I won't," said Arion airily, "because I'm not getting married." And he looked across at the hobbit. "Bilbo seems to be having plenty of fun all on his own."

"Ah, yes," said Telbarad, "but let me tell you, young man, that it's a lot more fun when there are two of you." And he winked at Thorin.

And so, laughing and chatting and gossiping, they made their happy way down the side of the hill towards the forge.

.o00o.

Pt IV

As they got nearer the forge, Thorin was struck by a wave of emotion. He was coming home. This is where he and Tauriel had started their life together and this was where they would end it. He found it difficult to imagine that he would want to run off to the Undying Lands to escape his fate. Soon, his children would all be gone and he and Tauriel would be together, on their own, at last. The forge was full of memories and he was looking forward to creating yet more memories there with his wife.

He smiled softly to himself. Could there be a happier dwarf in all of Middle-earth?

And then they turned the corner.

A band of fully-armed orcs, including three warg-riders, straddled the road and more were pouring out from the nearby woods. Elrond and Telbarad and Arion drew their swords; even Bilbo pulled little Sting from its scabbard. Thorin unhitched both his axe from behind his back and Orcrist from its sheath while Tauriel reached for her killing knives. Rose, Poppy and Lostwithiel were carrying bows and all three swiftly nocked arrows to the string. Dis had been a shield-maiden in her youth and Rose passed her the sword from her belt. Even her rusty sword-play would be needed.

Much to Thorin's surprise, the orcs didn't attack at once but their leader stepped forward and spoke. "Aaarrch," he sneered in his harsh, guttural tongue. "After nearly 20 years, I have returned, T'orin Oakenshield, and I will have my revenge for that night's work at your forge."

And, to his horror, Thorin suddenly realised that this was one of those orcs who had escaped after the raid at the crossroads.

"If only we had Warg with us,"Arion was thinking. He was counting the enemy and could see that they were badly outnumbered. But his thoughts were made flesh as Warg suddenly loped out from between the trees. Just as on that day when his pet had deserted him and the enemy wargs had spoken and stopped Warg in his advance, so today, Warg yowled and grunted and, as the orcs tried to force their steeds forward, their creatures refused to move. Seizing his opportunity, Arion recklessly galloped forward and, in one long and continuous motion, swept the heads from the riders' shoulders with his sword. Once they were riderless, the wargs howled to the albino and ran off into the woods from whence they had come.

Thorin yelled and plunged forward and suddenly, all was action. The three archers let loose arrow after arrow, Warg set about him with his razor-sharp teeth and swords and axes and killing knives flashed brightly in the sun. Such was their onslaught that, soon, many of the orcs lay dead and others had run away. But their leader stood firm and, at last, Thorin found himself face to face with him. The orc was larger than Thorin and his desire for revenge filled him with a bloodlust. "Prepare to die, dwarf," he taunted him. But Thorin was more skilled and he drove the orc back until the creature was pressed against a tree. And then, with a great shout, Thorin lifted his axe to strike off his head. But the orc, not fearing death and, reckless of his fate, threw himself forward and, moments before the axe bit into him, drove his sword home.

Thorin felt as though someone had punched him hard in the stomach and, immediately, all strength drained from his body. With a feeling of surprise, he staggered backwards and collapsed on the ground. The fighting all about him was nearly over and Tauriel cried out as she saw him fall. She rushed to her husband's side with Elrond close behind her. Thorin gave her a look of dazed incomprehension and she sat in the middle of the road, cradling his great head in her lap. Telbarad came then and cut away his clothes so that Elrond could examine the wound. The fighting had come to an end and the others gathered in an anxious and silent circle around them.

Finally, the elf-lord stood up and said quietly: "It is a fatal wound. The sword penetrated his gut and, soon, his blood will be corrupted. There is nothing I can do for him and, in the end, he will die."

Tauriel looked up at him. "How long?" she asked.

"He could last until tomorrow," Elrond said.

"Then we must take him to the Grey Havens," she said.

The wedding party, bloodied and bruised, had been standing around Thorin in a stunned silence, but now they moved purposefully. Carefully, they lifted Thorin into the back of the trap, Tauriel climbed in with him, Rose drove and the others mounted their horses. Arion called to Warg but was not surprised when the beast turned away and sloped off into the trees. He sensed that he would see him again.

Then, as quickly as possible, they made their way to the Grey Havens.

.o00o.

Thorin drifted in and out of consciousness. "Where are we going?" he asked.

"Into the West," Tauriel said firmly, "to the Undying Lands."

"But I had made up my mind not to go," he said weakly.

"Well," said the elf, "that was before you received a mortal wound. And I am not going to lose my husband at the same time that I lose my children."

Thorin could see the sense of it and he argued no more. Now that death stared him in the face, he wanted more life and he wanted to spend it with Tauriel.

"All those elves," he said, and he smiled faintly.

Tauriel smiled back and ran her hand gently down a plait. "You'll get used to us," she said.

They arrived at the Grey Havens in the late afternoon and an elegant ship was preparing to leave, waiting for the turn of the tide. A litter was brought to the quayside and Thorin was laid upon it. He stared up at the clear sky and watched the white gulls wheeling and crying there.

"The ship has come to carry you home," said Elrond. But not home to the forge, Thorin thought. "We shall meet again," the elf lord said and he clasped the dwarf by the hand.

Then Bilbo said: "It was a good adventure, old friend, but it is time for you to set out on another." And he bade him farewell.

Then those who knew they would see him again came before him. Poppy knelt and put her arms about him and kissed him. "What shall I do without you, father," she cried.

"Live a happy life," said Thorin. "This parting is only for a time."

"I'll look after her," said Lostwithiel.

"You'd better," said Thorin, "or I shall punch you on the nose when next we meet." And they grasped each other silently by the arm.

Arion knelt beside his father then. "You're a fine lad," said his father, "and one that I've always been proud of. You'll be a man by the time we meet again." Arion could find no words and silently backed away.

Then came those whom Thorin would see no more.

"I wish you could come with us, Dis," he said to his sister.

"But I have no desire to come," she smiled. "When I die, I shall go to the halls of waiting where I hope to be reunited with my sons." And she kissed him softly goodbye.

And then Telbarad came forward. "Guard well our borders, Ranger," said Thorin, "and keep my daughter safe." And Telbarad bowed gravely to him.

And, last of all, came Rose, and bitter was the parting. Thorin reached up to touch her cheek and his eyes filled with tears. "Goodbye, dearest Rose," he said. And she wept and her tears fell upon his face.

"It is time," said Elrond and Tauriel embraced them all. Then four elf lords came from the ship and carried Thorin on board whilst Tauriel walked beside the litter and held his hand. And the sails were unfurled and the wind blew and the ship passed out of the harbour into the high sea and on into the West.

And Thorin lay under a silken canopy upon the deck and, as they sailed towards the Undying Lands and the moon came up, it rained, making the air smell sweet and refreshed. And then it was as if the silver curtain of the rain was drawn back and he heard the sound of singing drifting to him over the water. "Look," whispered Tauriel. And suddenly the sun arose and, in a shaft of piercing light, they could see the white beaches and the green hills of their new land.

But those they left behind and who stared into the darkness after them saw nothing except the blackness of the night and they heard nothing except the sussuration of the waves upon the shore.

And, at last, the friends and family of Thorin Oakenshield and Tauriel the Elf turned their backs upon the Grey Havens and, taking comfort in each other, set out on the weary journey back to the forge at the crossroads.

.o00o.

Next episode: Thorin Amongst the Elves.


	27. Chapter 27 Thorin Amongst the Elves

Thorin and Tauriel have parted company with their family and friends as they sail into the West. I found it difficult to imagine The Undying Lands and how Thorin coped there, but I've had a go. Thank you so much, everyone, for reading along with me all these months.

.o00o.

THORIN AMONGST THE ELVES

Pt I

When he sailed to the Undying Lands, Thorin found he had two problems to deal with: one was the question of where to live, the other was how to handle the attitude of all those elves.

"Eughh! Elves!" as he said to Tauriel in his deep voice.

"Now, stop it, Thorin!" said Tauriel, slapping him on the wrist.

This second problem had started on the ship. He was still very weak, lying on his litter under a silken canopy on deck with Tauriel by his side, tending to him. Ever since the ship had burst through that strange curtain of glassy rain on the first night he had begun to feel better. But Tauriel had insisted that he continue to rest and it was some days before they finally reached their destination.

For years, back in Ered Luin, he had developed many strong friendships amongst the elves there: the men of his wife's troop up at the outpost loved him as one of their own and, secretly, he had to admit that he loved them too; those in the Grey Havens knew of him, recognised him and were grateful for the work that he and his wife did to protect their part of Middle-earth. If he walked through the streets of the town, no-one turned to look unless it was to greet him or to offer him a courteous bow. He was a close friend of Elrond, his daughter had married the elf lord, Lostwithiel, and even Thranduil showed him considerable respect when they met. He was very comfortable in his environment.

But, now, the ship was full of elves that were not known to him and, during the course of the day, many of them came on deck just to stare at him. Thorin was furious and, if he had had the strength to rise from his bed, then many of them would have found themselves with bloody noses.

Tauriel calmed him. "They will learn to know you and to love you in the end."

"But I'm not a curiosity at a fair," Thorin growled. "They're treating me like some strange animal."

"Well, some of them have never been this close to a dwarf before and it IS quite remarkable that you have been allowed to travel with us to the Undying Lands. They must wonder what it is about you that makes you so exceptional," said his wife, trying to massage his ego.

But, whatever Tauriel said, Thorin knew that they thought of him as a lesser being and that their rudeness stemmed from, yes, classifying him as a strange animal; not a great warrior, someone who was deserving of respect, but some object of curiosity to pass the time on this dull voyage.

Thorin was relieved when they finally arrived and he managed to walk down the gangplank with only a small amount of support from Tauriel. The new arrivals were all offered accommodation in a beautiful stand of tree houses near the quay and Thorin was able to tolerate this for a short period. But when it came for them to decide where their permanent home should be, Thorin was adamant: he would NOT live in a tree for all eternity, and that was that.

And so, he and Tauriel set off together to check out the lie of the land and the options that they could choose from. Everywhere was beautiful and so no one spot was more lovely than the other. But, did they want to live near the sea or inland, near other settlements or in comparative isolation? In the end, although he thought fondly of his forge at the crossroads, he was persuaded that it was sometimes not a good idea to be too much cut off from others.

"You'll have to mix with them sometime, Thorin," said Tauriel.

"Will I?" he replied sourly. "I somehow think I could survive without them."

"Well, I can't," said Tauriel a bit tartly, "not without my troop to occupy me and keep me company and without visits from Dis or the children."

And Thorin realised how selfish he was being and looked harder for a compromise.

At last he found it. Set into the side of a pretty, rocky hillside, quite near to a group of tree houses and in an area not far from the sea, he found a cave. It ran some way back into the hill but it had a large opening that let in a lot of light. From there, he could see down to the harbour in the distance.

"Look, Tauriel," he said excitedly, "we would be able to see the ships arriving and go and check them out when they came in."

"Thorin, my love," she said gently, "they won't come for years." And he understood who she meant.

"Yes, I know," he said stubbornly, "but we could go down to the quay and ask for news of Middle-earth."

"Well," said Tauriel doubtfully, "I suppose it's a lovely spot, but I don't know if I want to live in a cave."

"You will," he grinned, "when I tell you my plans for it."

And he sat her down and drew some diagrams with a stick in the dirt and, by the time he had finished, she was convinced. He wanted the elves to build them a tree house on the ground, a lovely extension that jutted out from the cave entrance so that they could live in both the dark and the light, inside both a habitation of stone and one of curving, twisting branches. And, to one side, he would build his own forge, "where I can make beautiful things for my beautiful wife," he smiled.

"Perfect," breathed Tauriel. "It reminds me a little of Bag End. I think we've found our new home."

.o00o.

Tauriel employed elven carpenters and joiners straight away to build their house. She also designed a beautiful bed, almost a replica of the one they had owned back at the forge. Thorin kept himself busy designing dwarven furniture decorated with typical carving which was also an echo of that from their old home.

"You talk to them, Tauriel," he said, handing over his drawings. "I'm sure they won't be happy about things." And the elven craftsmen weren't, complaining that they couldn't possibly bring themselves to create furniture that was so barbaric and ugly. But, Tauriel dug in her heels and, in the end, they reluctantly agreed.

As the house was built, Tauriel remained in the tree house for much of the day, creating, designing and putting together her new soft furnishings. Thorin went up to the hill site, occasionally to direct the elves, but mainly to keep well out of their way whilst he dug a new garden. His strength had almost completely returned and the steady digging, raking and planting helped him well on his way to recovery. Soon, he was bronzed by the sun and as fit as ever.

In a remarkably short space of time, their home was ready (what was it about the strange flow of time in these elven places?) and Thorin and Tauriel prepared to move in. As they rode up the hill together and the house came into view, they looked at each other and smiled.

"It looks so pretty," Tauriel said. And it did. The extension at the cave's mouth was made of pale, polished wood, all twisted and carved in intricate patterns and the roof was covered in rustic-looking shingles. The arched entrance door, made of oak, looked strong but inviting. The garden, to the front and to one side, was already growing and the burgeoning flowers and vegetables softened the raw, new edges of the place.

To the other side of the house was a stable block with a guest room tacked on the end. "I can't see us having many guests," Thorin had grunted.

The dwarf drew out a large key from his pocket and opened the door and then he grinned and swept Tauriel off her feet and into his arms. "What are you doing?" she giggled.

"Carrying you over the threshold of our new home," he said.

Inside the extension was a delightful living-room with comfortable dwarven furniture gathered around a stone fireplace at one end and a dining-table at the other. A pleasant and well-equipped kitchen led off from there. It was not as large or as fine as the main room of the forge but it had a quaint intimacy that was very appealing.

"You can put me down now," said Tauriel.

"I don't think so," responded the dwarf.

And then he carried her through into the cave section which served as an interesting and lofty bedchamber. The elves had built cupboards into all the nooks and crannies and the floor was covered in sweet-smelling grass matting. The large bed was positioned in the centre of the cave and the elf couldn't help but think that it sat there very nicely.

"You can put me down now," she whispered again. And this time he gently lowered her to her feet and began to unbutton her clothes. It had been a long time. His injuries had been very painful and the tree house down by the harbour had just felt – wrong. But now Thorin had his own home – even his own cave – and he felt more than ready.

He lifted her onto the luxurious feather bed and then flung off his own clothes. They lay together, gazing quietly into each other's eyes.

"We have all eternity," said Tauriel softly.

"And even all eternity would never be enough," he answered and he lowered his lips to hers.

.o00o.

Pt II

For the first few days, Thorin and Tauriel just enjoyed being in their new home. They made love, they tended the garden, they ate cake and drank tea on the outside bench whilst quietly admiring the view. Then Thorin began work on his new forge.

"Do you know what I shall miss most?" he said to Tauriel.

"No, tell me," his wife replied.

"I shall miss making swords. They were so intricate and beautiful. But, we have no enemies here and no cause to fight. I feel sorry about that." And he lovingly stroked his sword, Orcrist, as it lay on the dining-table.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," laughed the elf, knowing her husband's temper.

"Well, I suppose I might punch the noses of some of those elves – but I can't see me using a sword ever again." And he sighed.

But, tools broke and had to be replaced, horses needed to be shoed and everyone liked beautiful things. Most of all, Thorin needed to be kept busy. And so, he started to build a forge.

It had to be built in stone because of the fire hazard and, fortunately, there was a small quarry quite close to the house. Every day, Thorin took his horse and a wooden sled up to the quarry and then tugged a pile of stones back to the house on the sled. Quite a few large stones were lying around loose but he also took a pick-axe and a spade with him so that he could dig out some more. Then when he had a pile at a spot between the house and the stables, he sat down to shape them and, after he had a load of suitably shaped stones, he started the process all over again. He could have asked the elves to build the forge but he had plenty of time and he didn't want their interference nor did he want them on his property any more.

But he got them whether he wanted them or not.

From the very first day that he started working on the forge, Thorin had an audience of young elves who sat on a mound a short distance from the stables and watched his every move. Tauriel reckoned they were only a hundred years old or so – the equivalent of about 13-17 in man years. He tried to remember that they were hardly more than children and kept telling himself to ignore them.

But they came day after day and their fixed stares were beginning to get him down. In the end, one of them spoke.

"You're not very good at shaping those stones, are you?" said one youth.

"That's because I'm not a mason," said Thorin curtly.

"Well, why do you want a pile of old stones, anyway?" said another.

"To build a forge," Thorin answered even more shortly.

They absorbed that for a bit. Then: "Are you a smith, then?"

"Yes."

Another silence.

"My father says that lots of dwarves are smiths on Middle-earth."

No answer. Then, after a long pause: "Why are you such a funny shape?" the first one asked.

Thorin felt like throwing his chisel at them and chasing them away. But: "In what way, funny?" he said. It was a hot day and he was stripped to the waist.

"Well, your hands are very big. And your arms and your chest and your shoulders are so broad." The youth looked at him hard, his head cocked on one side, examining Thorin as if he were a specimen in a tray. "And your muscles are enormous," he added.

Thorin lay down his tools carefully, stood up straight, examined his hands and said: "All the better for strangling you with." And then he took one step forward. Two of the fascinated girls in the group screamed and ran away and, after a moment, the youths ran after them.

Well, they scare easy enough, thought Thorin and he went back to his work.

He was left to himself the next day and he thought that his threat had done the trick. But, the following day, they began to drift back. And, for a further day, none of them said anything.

Then: "I'd like black hair," said one of the girls. "It would make me different. And curly would be good too."

Were they trying to be nice, Thorin wondered? He couldn't understand why they had come back. Wasn't there anything else more interesting they could do with their time? And then he thought that there probably wasn't. What was the point of learning to use a sword or a bow when there were no evil orcs to fight? That had been his greatest entertainment when he had been a youth. And there had been a purpose. He supposed their only alternative was learning to play the harp or taking singing lessons or writing poetry. Now that WAS a hardship, he thought.

And so he put his tools down again and they all looked anxious and rose to their feet, ready to take flight.

"I'm going up to the quarry again," he said. "Who wants to help me?"

Much to his amazement, they all stepped tentatively forward and then they trailed behind him up to the quarry, helped him load his sled and then trailed back again. When they went to sit down, he produced some more hammers and chisels. "And which of you," he said, "would like to learn to be a bad mason like me?" Thorin was nearly trampled in the rush and they had to take turns with the tools. Soon it became a competition to see who could produce the best work and win Thorin's praise.

"Well, you'll soon be much better than me," said the dwarf, "although that doesn't take much beating." And they all grinned.

At lunchtime, Tauriel, noticing what was going on, brought out a tray of food and drinks which made everyone quite sociable. "I'm making terrific progress with all this help," said Thorin. "I'll be able to start on the actual building soon." And, later that afternoon, he marked out where the forge was going to stand and they all promised that they would return with a spade the following day to help him dig out the foundations. And then, with a cheerful wave, they were gone.

.o00o.

"You clever, clever dwarf," said Tauriel as she lay in Thorin's arms that night. "The way that lot have been running around after you all day like puppies at your heels, anyone would think you were charming them with some magic wand. It's one way of getting your forge finished quickly and for free, I suppose."

"Honestly, Tauriel," he said, "I would much rather do it without their help. But, since I seem unable to shake them off or frighten them away, I thought they could at least be useful."

"Well," said Tauriel, holding on to him tightly, "since you're not going to shake me off or frighten me away either, perhaps I can be useful too." And the suggestions that she whispered into his ear were much, MUCH more useful than any others that had been made to him during the whole course of that day.

.o00o.

Pt III

The next day, as they had promised, the young elves all turned up with spades and set to, enthusiastically digging trenches for the foundations. But, they had nowhere near Thorin's strength and soon gave up and lay gasping on the ground. Thorin soldiered on.

"How do you do that?" one of them asked.

"You need exercise to build up your strength," he said, and this time they admired rather than scorned the muscles rippling and flexing under his skin.

"What sort of exercises?" the same youth continued.

"Mainly weapons training," he replied. "That started in my childhood and now smithing keeps me fit. Surely you trained with sword and bow when you lived in Middle-earth?"

"Oh, we've never lived in Middle-earth," said a girl, "and that's why we've never learned to use weapons."

Thorin stopped his digging, his mouth open. And so she continued: "After the last Alliance of Elves and Men….."

"….and Dwarves," he interrupted.

"Oh, really? Well, all right then. But after that Alliance, many elves made their way to the Grey Havens to take ship. We were a much diminished people. And our parents were among them. We were born here."

My goodness, thought Thorin. The tedium of it all. No wonder they had come to watch him dig holes.

"What weapons did you use?" asked one of the older ones called Evanuil, his eyes glowing with excitement. "I've always wanted to learn how to use a sword but my father says there's no point."

"Wait a moment," said Thorin and he disappeared into the house and came back with his axe, dwarven bow and Orcrist.

They all gathered around excitedly. "Don't push," he said. Then they wondered at the loveliness of the elven blade. "I found it in a troll hoard," he explained. "She's a real beauty."

"Trolls! You've seen trolls!" exclaimed Favreen, the young girl, excitedly.

"Yes, and orcs and wargs and dragons," he grinned. "Well, at least one dragon."

They dashed to their mound and sat down, their arms clasped around their knees, their eyes lifted expectantly to his face. Thorin raised an enquiring eyebrow. "This is our story circle," said little Perin. "Aren't you going to tell us all about it?"

Well, perhaps he could, thought Thorin. He needed a break. And so he sat on a large block of stone and told them all about the dragon, Smaug, and how he and his fellow dwarves had gone on a great adventure to reclaim his kingdom. And he did all the voices.

"So, you're a king?" breathed Evanuil, his face alight.

"Not any more," laughed Thorin. "I'm a smith now." And, it was at this point that Tauriel brought out lunch for everyone.

As they sat eating, Seleth, the youngest, produced a harp from his bag. He pulled a face. "I've got singing lessons later this afternoon and I need to practise, if you don't mind." They gestured to him to go ahead but with little enthusiasm.

"What! Don't you like singing and songs?" asked Thorin in surprise.

"We'd like it more if we didn't have lessons day in and day out," groaned Favreen and Thorin could understand that.

They listened to Seleth sing his song, adequately enough, and gave him a smattering of applause. He was just about to return his harp to his bag when Thorin reached out his hand for it. "Shall I sing you a song about the dragon, Smaug?" he asked.

Seleth looked at the dwarf's big hands and was hesitant. "You won't break it?" he asked.

"Trust me," said Thorin. And then he played and sang his Misty Mountain song.

"You're GOOD," exclaimed Evanuil, as amazement and admiration showed on every face. "Did an elf write that?"

"Certainly not," snorted Thorin indignantly. "I composed it after the attack on my home."

"I'd like to learn that one," said Seleth. "Have you got it written down somewhere?"

"No," said Thorin. "We dwarves make it up as we go along. It just comes to us."

"But, don't you have lessons?" Seleth persisted. "We all have lessons."

"No, you're either good at singing and playing or you're not. No-one's forced to do it if they don't want to."

Seleth gave an envious sigh. "You mean, if I were a dwarf, I wouldn't have to sing?"

"That's about the size of it," laughed Thorin.

They managed to finish the foundations that day and, before they went home, the youngsters gathered around to examine Thorin's weapons again. Evanuil tried to lift Thorin's axe but gasped in amazement when he could hardly shift it. So, Thorin made them all sit down on the mound whilst he gave them a demonstration of how dwarves fought with both axe and sword. They gawped as he seemed to lift both weapons with casual ease and then spun on the spot, whirling them above his head.

"An elf could never do that," said Seleth in wide-eyed admiration.

"I beg to differ," laughed Thorin. "I used to help train some of Tauriel's elven troops who were stationed near the Grey Havens and a couple of them were so determined to emulate me that, in the end, they succeeded – and they did it quite well too. There's no reason why, young elfling, that, with the right training, you couldn't fight with sword and axe too."

And Seleth stared at Thorin in total hero-worship. "Could you train me?" he asked.

"And me….and me!" yelled the others.

"Perhaps," said Thorin, reluctantly. Then, happy with his response, they all trooped down the hill towards their tree houses, chattering with animation.

.o00o.

"Well," said Tauriel in bed that night, "it looks as though you've found yourself a job." And she laughed.

"What? Training up all those young elves?" he muttered. "I've got better things to do with my time."

"Like what?" she smiled. She knew that Thorin secretly felt pleased that they had asked for his help.

"Like this," he murmured, snuggling up to her and undoing the buttons on her night gown.

"Oh," she retorted, "that's something to do during the night shift. But I think that a bit of training would help to keep you occupied during the day and give you a break from your smithing. It should make you popular with the neighbours as well."

"Ah," he said, "but all I really care about is making myself popular with you."

And, after an hour or more of enthusiastic and athletic work on his night shift, Tauriel had to admit that his popularity with her had gone up several points at least.

.o00o.

Pt IV

Unfortunately, Thorin's generous offer of help did NOT make him popular with the neighbours. As he started work on building the walls of his forge the following day, he was surprised that there was no sign of his young friends.

An hour passed and, suddenly, half a dozen stern-looking elf lords strode up the hill towards him. They were armed and their hands rested on the pommels of their swords. Thorin realised at once that they must be veterans of the Last Alliance. Better not mess with them, he thought. Mortals were still mortal, even here, and, shoving a stone into place, he turned politely to greet them. At their rear and hovering apprehensively at a distance, he noticed the young elves and wondered what the problem was.

The elf lords, adopting a confrontational stance, stopped in front of him.

"Thorin Oakenshield?" snapped one.

"Yes," replied Thorin mildly, wiping his hands on a rag. "Can I help you?" His sword and axe lay to hand, waiting for the lesson he had promised. His fingers itched to reach out and pick them up but he controlled the urge.

The lead elf lord seemed to be controlling himself too and his lips twisted in anger.

"Now what have I done?" thought Thorin with a sigh.

"How dare you!" the elf finally spluttered. Thorin raised a questioning eyebrow which seemed to inflame him more than ever.

"How dare you use our children as slave labour to build your forge! How dare you corrupt them with talk of battles and fighting and death! How dare you teach them your barbaric songs and lure them away from their lessons with promises of teaching them how to use a dwarven axe!"

A mixture of anger and despair surged through Thorin but he faced the wrathful faces quietly. "I was sent here by the elves of Middle-earth. I have as much right to be here as you. Is this the proper way to treat a neighbour?"

"Dwarf!" spat the elf, "You are not here at MY invitation. Any vote of mine would not have been cast in your favour. You do not belong here; you are not one of us. And even after so short a time, you are causing trouble with our young people. Our sons and daughters have been forbidden any contact with you and we forbid you to have contact with them." And then the elves turned on their heels, herding the gathered group of youngsters before them whilst the elflings looked back apologetically and regretfully over their shoulders.

Thorin stood there for a while, watching their retreating backs and then he sat down on a stone and rested his head tiredly in one large hand. Tauriel came out then: "And what was all that about?" she asked. But Thorin didn't reply. Instead, he got up and stomped off into the house and into the bed chamber, banging the door behind him.

Tauriel gave him time to get over things but when, after two hours, he hadn't emerged, she quietly opened the bedroom door and peeked inside. Thorin was lying with his face to the cave wall, his back to the door. She eased herself onto the bed and slipped her arm about his waist.

"I should never have come here," he said. "I knew that they wouldn't want me – that I wouldn't fit in. I cannot bear it." And then he closed his eyes and fell silent.

After a few hours of this, Tauriel got up to make some food but when Thorin still lay, silent and unmoving upon the bed, she began to feel worried. It was as if her husband had been drained of all his usual driving energy. When she spoke, he didn't answer but lay as one dead, lifeless and still.

Tauriel was normally slow to anger but, in defence of the man she loved, her terrible elven wrath began to rise. She tried to be rational but, in the end, she marched down the hill to the tree houses where the families concerned came from.

The elf lords and their families were seated in their gardens, enjoying the evening air when Tauriel descended upon them. She called them to her and addressed them in scathing terms.

"Well, that was very brave of you," she said. "Six armed elves accosting one unarmed dwarf who is quietly going about his own business on his own property. He must make you all feel very inadequate for some reason."

"Going about his own business!" snorted one of them in reply. "More likely interfering in ours and taking advantage of our young people!"

Tauriel spun towards the youngsters who were listening with apprehensive interest to the conversation.

"Did he approach you first or did you approach him?" she asked sharply.

"Ummm, we approached him," said Evenuil, looking a bit embarrassed and shuffling his feet.

"Tell me about it," she said.

"Well, we heard that a dwarf had moved in up the hill and we – umm – we had never seen one before and so we went for a look."

"As if he were some strange exhibit," Tauriel snapped.

"Well, he did look a bit weird to us at first and so we just sat on that mound and watched him."

"And, if someone had watched you all day, how would you have felt?"

"Angry, I suppose," mumbled Evenuil.

"And did my husband get angry with you?"

"Umm, no, he just ignored us and carried on."

"And what happened the next day?" pursued Tauriel.

Evenuil flushed and muttered something. "Speak up," said his father angrily.

"We started being rude to him, like, you know, asking why he was such a weird shape."

His father rolled his eyes and Tauriel asked: "And?"

"And he pretended he was going to strangle us. I could see he was joking – just to get rid of us – but the girls screamed and ran away and so we followed."

"And so, I suppose," said Tauriel, "you kept away from him after that."

"Er, no. It was fun and so we went back a couple of days later." He flinched as his father let out an expletive.

"But," said the youngster, looking up earnestly, "we tried to be nice to him. And then he asked us if we wanted to help and we did."

"So, he didn't press-gang you into doing his work for him?" asked Tauriel.

"No," said the lad. "In fact, I think we were more of a nuisance to him than a help. He could see we were bored and I think it was his way of being kind to us. We asked him to tell us stories of Middle-earth and he did. They were good. And when Seleth sang a song, he sang one too and that was REALLY good. And when he told us how he and you had helped to defend Middle-earth, we asked about his weapons and he showed them to us. Mind you, no chance we'd ever learn to use a dwarven axe – we couldn't even lift it."

"And did he waste a lot of time entertaining you instead of building his forge?" asked Tauriel.

"Umm, yes. I think we were really getting in his way but he was very kind to us."

His father turned to Tauriel and bowed. "I think we may have jumped to some wrong conclusions about your husband," he said. "Leave things to me. I think I need to have a few words with my son and his friends."

Tauriel wasn't mollified but she nodded her head sharply and returned to her home. Thorin still lay unmoving in bed. She told him that the elf-lords had misunderstood the situation and regretted their manner, but it made no difference. It was as if she hadn't spoken and Tauriel was in despair.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and she found all the youngsters standing anxiously on the threshold. "We've come to apologise," said Evenuil. "Our parents got hold of the wrong end of the stick and we were too ashamed of our behaviour to put them right. Can we see him?"

"He's very upset," Tauriel told them, looking rather weepy, "and he won't come out of his room or even get up from his bed. It's all had a very bad effect on him."

The youngsters whispered together in a huddle and then Seleth drew out his harp.

"Can we stand outside his bedroom door and sing to him?" asked Evenuil. "He might like that."

Tauriel smiled wanly at the suggestion: "Yes, perhaps he might," she said.

And so they stood in a circle and sang Thorin's Misty Mountain song. They did it in elven style but the harmonies were very beautiful even if it did sound different. Thorin lay on his bed and the sad, slow melody wrapped itself around him and brought back a thousand poignant memories. It lifted rather than depressed his spirit and, as the singers reached the last verse, his lethargy began to evaporate.

When they had finished, Thorin came to the door. "That was lovely," he said. "It made me feel as if I was back home in the dwarven halls of Erebor." And then he came out and they all sat down whilst Tauriel made them a nice cup of tea.

"Can we come again tomorrow?" they asked tentatively. "Our parents don't mind. And we'll do our best to help. And….umm….we'd really like some weapons training, you know, just for the fun of it, if you've got time."

And Thorin laughed and said that it was a deal.

.o00o.

"I love you, Thorin," said Tauriel later that night as she wound him in her arms. "But don't you EVER frighten me like that again."

"I'm sorry," he whispered softly in her ear. "For a few hours, I really thought I couldn't cope with this place. But, I should have known that I could cope with anything with you by my side."

"Well, it looks as though you've got a job for all eternity with these young elves. They think the world of you," she smiled.

"They'll help me pass the time until my own children come home," he said quietly.

"How about we pass the time together, my love?" she suggested. And then she seized his plaits and pulled his lips down upon her own.

.o00o.

Next episode: So, What Happened Next…..?


	28. Chapter 28 So, What Happened Next?

Well, dear readers, this episode, when I first wrote these stories, was a sort of epilogue for Thorin in which I described what happened to Thorin's family and friends after their sad return from the Grey Havens when his ship had sailed into the West. But, I couldn't let go and I wrote another rather weird Thorin story followed by several more about the early years of Poppy and Lostwithiel's marriage. I finally rounded it all off with a postscript.

It is difficult to know exactly where to put this epilogue-y thing since so much to be found in the final episodes overlap. And so I have decided to leave it where I wrote it.

I'd like to give a big thank you to everyone who has doggedly read all my stories and then commented. I have loved hearing from you.

.o00o.

SO, WHAT HAPPENED NEXT?

When they got back to the forge from the Grey Havens, Rose and Telbarad, Poppy and Lostwithiel, Arion, Dis, Bilbo and Elrond sat silently and sadly for a long while. Then, with a collective sigh, they got up and looked around for places to sleep.

Rose, Poppy and Dis peered into Thorin and Tauriel's bedroom and gazed at the beautiful bed.

"I can't sleep in their bed," said Poppy.

"Neither can I," said Rose. "It belonged to them and it would seem wrong somehow."

"I don't mind," said Dis. "It will make me feel closer to them." And then, for the first time, she wept when she thought she would never see her brother and Tauriel again. And Rose wrapped her arms around her because she knew how Dis felt.

Then, the two couples took over the guest bedrooms and Arion, Bilbo and Elrond slept in the single rooms that had once belonged to the children in the main part of the house.

Rose and Telbarad slowly sank onto the feather mattress and the Ranger took his wife gently in his arms. "Hold me, Telbarad," she said. "I cannot bear to think that he has gone." And she murmured late into the night, telling him the whole story of how she had met Thorin and all about their life together at the forge. And she laughed and she wept and she finally fell asleep upon her husband's broad chest. He had never heard the Rose/Thorin saga from beginning to end and he was very moved. And he thanked the dwarf in his heart because Thorin had saved Rose and had saved Rose for him.

As the sun crept through the windows, they awoke and made love. "I want a child," said Rose, "and, if it's a boy, I shall call him Thorin."

The morning drew on and everyone sadly packed their gear; then they embraced each other and went their several ways. Dis, Elrond and Bilbo set off together; Rose and Telbarad accompanied them part of the way as they journeyed North; Poppy and Lostwithiel returned to the outpost to share the news with the troop and Arion stopped behind to tidy up and lock the forge behind him.

The elves at the outpost were stunned when they heard of the orc attack and the passing of their captain and her husband to the Undying Lands. They tried to comfort Poppy then drifted around aimlessly until Lostwithiel called them to order and gave them jobs to do to occupy their minds. The elf lord seemed to square his shoulders and was determined that all the hard effort that Thorin and Tauriel had put into the outpost should not be wasted.

A few of the men offered to help him and Poppy get their new house in order and, by the end of the day, it was fit enough for them to move into it. Their first night there was a miserable one and they lay awake until the dawn thinking of what they had lost. Thorin had loomed so large in Lostwithiel's life that his absence created a giant hole. "Your father was always breathing down my neck," he said to Poppy, "but it was good to feel the heat of his breath upon my back. He drove me forward and now I feel rudderless without him."

Poppy understood. "But," she said, "you still have a purpose here. The outpost is a vital defence in this part of the world and you must do your best to keep it going. Elrond was afraid of something – and it wasn't just orcs. You must prepare for the day, whatever it brings."

"Yes," said the elf lord. "And when the evil day comes, I hope not to fall in battle because I would like to see my captain again, not to mention that grumpy father of yours, when we also take ship into the West."

Poppy smiled at the thought of their eventual reunion and they finally fell asleep in each other's arms.

Arion lingered longer than necessary at the forge but he finally closed all the shutters and locked the doors behind him. Then, with a heavy heart, he also set out for the farmhouse. It was a fine, clear day and, as he climbed the hills, he dismounted and sat on a ridge to eat a snack and gaze out at the view. The awful thing was, he thought, his parents had always been there – and now they weren't. Who would advise him? Who would help him? Whose shoulder would he cry on? And, most of all, who would now love him unconditionally? He closed his eyes in exhaustion and grief, lay back on the grass and fell asleep.

He awoke when something wet touched him and he opened his eyes to find Warg licking his cheek. Arion buried his face in the fur of the beast's neck. The two of them sat quietly for a long time together until, finally, Arion stood and gave Warg one last hug and sent him on his way. His pet had always understood him and he was the one who now would always be there. He would come when he was needed and this thought brought a feeling of calm and stillness to Arion's heart.

.o00o.

And so, what happened to them all?

Lostwithiel was appointed as the new captain of the outpost and was admired by all for his excellent work. Poppy became a renowned hostess in the area and people for miles around were delighted if they were invited to one of her parties. But, after five years, she had a baby girl whom they called Rose – or Rosie, to distinguish her from her aunt. She seemed to change then and Lostwithiel built the house by the sea on the plot they had bought years earlier and they spent all their spare time there, just the three of them, quietly enjoying the view and the cry of the gulls and the sound of the waves upon the shore. Poppy felt as though she were waiting for that day when she would set sail in a ship for the Undying Lands and she would be reunited with her parents once more.

But, it was not yet time. Some evil was looming which they must all withstand; nor did she want to say goodbye to Rose whilst her sister still lived.

Poppy saw Rose quite regularly for some years because her sister and the Ranger had two children, a boy called Thorin and a girl called Tauriel. She decided not to take them to Rivendell but moved back to the forge where she became a famous smith. Dis packed her bags and moved in with Rose to help with the children and keep her company. Telbarad managed to visit Rose and the children with reasonable frequency but Rose missed him terribly and decided that, when Tauriel was fourteen and Thorin was sixteen, they would all move back to the camps in the North. Both children wanted to be Rangers and had done a certain amount of training with Lostwithiel up at the outpost but they also wanted desperately to be reunited with their father.

But, a year before that day came, Dis fell sick and died. Rose nursed her and held her hand as she slipped quietly away. "I shall soon see my sons," were the last words she spoke and she smiled. But they were all very upset and it just wasn't the same without her.

The cousins, Rosie, Thorin and Tauriel, together with Beren, the young son of Challis and Lithin, played a lot together as they grew up and they proved to be as daring and as naughty as the adult Rose had been. It was quite hard for them all to part when Tauriel and Thorin finally set out for the North with their mother. But that was the way of things in Middle-earth and all they could do was promise to visit each other as much as possible.

As the years passed, the brother and sister became acclaimed warriors on the borders, along with Cat, who had travelled North after her beloved adoptive father, Barnaby Waller, had died. Meanwhile, their cousin, Rosie, and their friend, Beren, joined Lostwithiel at the outpost.

Arion never got married but became Lostwithiel's second in command and, as the evil closed in, the people were glad for the presence of the children and descendants of that strange union between Thorin Oakenshield, the dwarf, and Tauriel, the elf.

And what of Warg? Lostwithiel's cheerful assumption that the creature couldn't count happily proved to be true and, for a long time, Arion saw him on a regular basis. Sometimes he came rushing to his aid at times of danger; but, he would also slip quietly into a glade where Arion was on sentry duty and help him pass the long watches of the night. Then, twenty years after Thorin and Tauriel's departure into the West, late one evening when Arion was on guard, he appeared and sat down next to him. He looked old and tired but he sat with his former master until the dawn. Then he licked his friend's cheek and loped away, never to be seen again. It was then that Arion felt truly alone and was deeply grateful for this odd friendship that had grown between boy and beast.

Thirty years from the time that Rose took her family north, the War of the Ring finally broke out and her two children and Cat set off to support Estel in his fight against Sauron. By the time they returned victorious and Estel was crowned king, Rose was an elderly and well-loved lady. The camps in the North and the outpost of Ered Luin were finally abandoned and Rose and Telbarad returned to the forge with Cat and their children.

Rose and Cat were too late to say goodbye to Roger who had died six months earlier. In middle age, he had married a pretty but scatter-brained young woman who had, however, supplied him with an heir and a spare to inherit Barnaby's wealth.

Then they found that they had only a year together before Rose also died, surrounded by her family, and, for all of them, it was a signal that the time had come for their lives to change once more.

Telbarad was heart-broken and lost without Rose, and so he set off with his children and Cat for Minas Tirith where they spent the rest of their days at the court of Estel and his queen, Arwen Half-elven. Before they left, they gave the forge to the dwarf, Darri, who, like Arion, had also never married, and people felt lucky that they had yet another fine smith at the crossroads. But, the last of the ships were leaving the Grey Havens and Lostwithiel, Poppy, Arion and Rosie knew that their time had come.

.o00o.

And what about Thorin who, for years, had been living amongst all those elves? Well, the Undying Lands had not only restored him to full health but also to his youthful vigour. He could not bear to idle away his immortality and so he had set up a forge where he made exquisitely beautiful things. The elves were at first amused by him and then impressed. He had a feeling for beauty that they could all understand.

He did not know if he were happy or not. His love for Tauriel was just as strong as it had ever been, his passion unflagging, and he enjoyed exploring his new home with her. It was a lovely place, seemingly a combination of all the best bits of Middle-earth, but he missed his children and he even missed Lostwithiel. He was annoyed with himself that he wasn't grateful – or grateful enough, perhaps – for this second chance that had been given him, but he felt as though he were waiting.

Fortunately, just like his experience in Rivendell, time passed quickly and smoothly in this strange land. As the ships arrived more frequently with elven refugees and news of the War of the Ring, Thorin and Tauriel spent many hours sitting on the quay. Some of the ships carried passengers whom they recognised, such as Thranduil together with the Mirkwood elves. Thorin was so pleased to see an old face that he even let Thranduil kiss his wife. The elven king had grinned: "It seems the air here has mellowed you, Thorin Oakenshield," he said.

But, there was still no sign of Elrond or either of his children.

Then the news spread that the last ship would soon be arriving in the Undying Lands. Anxiously, they waited on the quay.

"What if they don't come?" asked Thorin.

"They will," said Tauriel.

At last, the ship docked. And, first to disembark were Gandalf and Elrond, along with a number of the Rivendell elves who had waited with him. They embraced Thorin warmly and Gandalf said: "You have missed a great adventure, old friend."

And then, to Thorin and Tauriel's delight, down the gangplank came the troop of elves from the outpost of Ered Luin; and many tears were shed. They laughed and hugged, then the elves turned Thorin around to see the next two passengers: Bilbo and his nephew, Frodo.

Thorin's eyes widened. "Like you," smiled Bilbo at Thorin's delight, "we have been given special dispensation to take passage on the ships because of the Great Adventure of the Ring. Later, we shall share a pipe or two whilst I tell you all about it."

And Thorin felt a bubble of happiness rising in him as he gazed around and saw so many of his old companions. Then they turned Thorin and Tauriel back again to face the ship and, finally, down the gangplank came their hearts' desire: Arion and Poppy, with Lostwithiel walking apprehensively behind them, holding the hand of a beautiful young woman. "Your granddaughter, Rosie," he said.

Thorin thought his heart would burst as he folded them all in his arms and the tears streamed down his face. Few words were said: that would be for later. But he grasped Lostwithiel warmly by the arm and thanked him for bringing Arion and Poppy and Rosie safely home. "I've really missed you, elf," he muttered gruffly.

And Lostwithiel grinned and said: "One more surprise, Thorin, especially for you." Then he gestured to the last two passengers disembarking from the ship.

"Legolas!" snorted Thorin. "Why should I be so pleased to see him?"

"Not Legolas," laughed Lostwithiel, "but his little friend!"

And striding down the plank behind Legolas came a dwarf, Gimli, son of Gloin – that same Gloin who had been Thorin's companion when they had regained their treasure from the dragon, Smaug.

.o00o.

Thorin's happiness was then complete, as he told Tauriel for the nth time as they lay in bed together that night. He had another dwarf – and the son of an old friend, at that - with whom to share the long years of immortality.

"Wouldn't you rather share those years with me?" laughed Tauriel.

"Hmm," said Thorin with a furrowed brow. "Decisions, decisions."

Then he drew her tenderly into his arms and kissed her.

"No contest," he said.

.o00o.

Next episode: Letters to Thorin `


	29. Chapter 29 Letters to Thorin

Now, this is slightly tongue-in-cheek and you'll understand/enjoy it more if you have read all the other episodes. It's post-Thorin but I still manage to make it all about Thorin. It describes a little job that Thorin had on the side as a columnist when he lived in Ered Luin. Some of the letters written anonymously must have been a bit teasing/trolling but I believe that many of them were written by people searching for an answer. Perhaps they didn't realise that "Thorin" was their Thorin. Or, perhaps they did, but had no choice since Thorin was the only Agony Aunt on Middle-earth. Our sweet Thorin, however, seems blissfully unaware that he is acquainted with any of these correspondents and answers as seriously as possible and with furrowed brow, whilst chewing the end of his quill, LOL! What amuses me is how, in many of his answers, he digs a hole for himself and keeps on digging!

Hope you have a bit of fun trying to guess who the correspondents are.

.o00o.

LETTERS TO THORIN

.o00o.

THE GREY HAVENS FREE PRESS

Editorial: LETTERS TO THORIN

Most of our readers will recognise the name of Thorin Oakenshield who recently departed for the Undying Lands with his wife, Tauriel the Elf. It may come as a surprise to some of you that this Thorin is the same Thorin of our Letters to Thorin page. For many years and at my request, he wrote a column in this publication, initially answering questions on such topics as home security, weapons of Middle-earth and race relations. Interestingly, after only a short time, the nature of these questions from our readers began to change and he started to receive anonymous letters on more personal subjects.

I remember, myself, talking to one of his wife's men up at the Ered Luin outpost. "What Thorin doesn't know about love isn't worth knowing," he said. And, certainly, this assumption, over the years, seems to have spread throughout Middle-earth. I discussed with Thorin the new type of letter that was suddenly arriving in his in-tray and he cheerfully agreed to give the answers his best shot. Subsequently, his column became one of the most popular sections this newspaper has ever known.

Today sees the publication of a tribute to this fine dwarf. The GHFP has gathered together all of these questions and responses into a slim volume entitled Letters to Thorin. As a taster, we have printed extracts in the Review section on page 13. We miss you, Thorin!

THE EDITOR

Extracts from LETTERS TO THORIN

Published by Elven Press.

Hardback edition: 3 silver groats

Letter 1

Dear Thorin

I wonder if you could advise me on the unhappy situation in which I have found myself.

A few years ago, I was asked to work with a new, female boss. She was very efficient and very attractive, but I managed to convince myself that she was a woman of loose morals and, under this misapprehension, made a serious sexual advance on her. I was very lucky that, not only did she not take the matter any further, but she completely forgave me. Today, we have an excellent relationship and I consider her to be a good friend.

Unfortunately, her husband has since found out about this incident. Initially, he beat me up (and, yes, I deserved it) but after speaking to his wife, he has tried to control his feelings. Sadly, he has been unable to forgive me too. My work and my lifestyle bring me into very close association with this family. I admire and like the couple very much and am very fond of their children. But it is causing me great distress that the husband obviously still despises me and is holding me at arm's length when I feel such remorse for this past incident.

Can you suggest how I can make things better between us? Or should I just accept that things will never change?

Yours

Bemused of the Blue Mountains

.o00o.

Dear Bemused of the Blue Mountains

I felt so sorry for you when I read your letter. Isn't it the pits when you make just one mistake in life and then you seem to be punished for it forever? I am so pleased for you that your boss saw fit to forgive you and I regret that her husband cannot do the same.

I feel your remorse. You obviously wish that you could turn back the clock and start again with this man. But, perhaps it's time to move on and no longer care so much about what he thinks of you. Unfortunately, he is obviously very uptight about his masculinity and, by your actions, you have threatened his self-esteem, perhaps making him feel inadequate in the bedroom department. Think: are you better-looking, fitter, taller? Any of these things might have lead him to question his relationship with his wife and you have doubtless made him feel very insecure.

If he cannot forgive you, then perhaps he is just not worth knowing. Avoid him as much as you can but try to maintain the friendship and good work relationship that you have with his wife.

Most people - including myself – have received forgiveness after a particularly bad piece of behaviour. The husband appears to me to be quite shallow and I am confident that he is not worth losing sleep over at night.

My best wishes for your future

Thorin

.o00o.

Letter 2

Dear Thorin

I am the sort of man who has always felt complete confidence in himself. I know who I am, what I think, where I am coming from. I know what I expect from myself and I know what I expect from other people. At least, this has always been the case until I was sent on a mission to foreign parts.

It was then, after being confronted with a different lifestyle and a different way of thinking, that I began to wonder if I didn't have things wrong after all.

My biggest concern is that this whole journey has not only made me question values I have long held dear but it has also affected my relationship with my betrothed. Sexually, I have always liked to take control and be the dominant partner while my betrothed has always submitted completely to my will. But, now, I feel so disturbed by things I have witnessed elsewhere that I question whether or not we can lead successful sex lives until I have managed to get my thoughts in order.

Her submissive manner now leaves me completely cold. What I need you to tell me is: will these feelings settle down after I have been at home for a few months or does it mean I should break off my betrothal and go in search of a more dominant partner?

Yours in expectation of a speedy reply

Confused of Rohan

.o00o.

Dear Confused of Rohan

Whoa, there, young man! No hasty decisions, please, until you have explored every avenue! Throwing over your betrothed because she no longer stokes your boiler without finding out why is not a sensible decision. What you need to question is: she did once - why not now? And I think we can feel pretty confident about the whys and the wherefores in this particular case.

You appear to have changed in your needs and desires after being exposed to a different culture and perhaps this change is a permanent one but perhaps not. My personal feeling is that you have suddenly become aware of other possibilities in your sex life and this is what is exciting you.

The sensible solution is that you and your betrothed should get together and have an open and frank discussion about this. Perhaps if you explained your new-found needs to her she might be more than willing to help you out. In fact, she might even find it a more exciting experience herself if she took on the dominant role.

Don't get into a rut. Try out different things such as role-play - but try it with your current lover. Don't feel that the search for novelty means finding someone else.

All the best!

Thorin

.o00o.

Letter 3

Dear Thorin

I have summoned up the courage to write to you because you appear to be the SWEETEST man and I'm sure you will do your best to resolve my problems.

My friends and I read your column every single week and I DO wish there was someone as understanding as you at home. If there were, then perhaps I wouldn't be in the situation I find myself in now because you obviously listen to EVERY WORD (unlike some people I could mention!)

I am sixteen years old and a very responsible young lady. My father is a wealthy and respected man in the community. I live in an isolated spot with no friends except those I have made in the Grey Havens. These friends are very important to me but, because I don't live in town, I only get to see them on an infrequent basis.

AND WHEN I DO (and I don't know if you will believe me or not) my father insists on COMING TOO! And I don't just mean that he escorts me to the door and then picks me up when I come home. I mean he comes INTO the house and sits in a corner at a party, or sits where he can keep an eye on me at The Mithril Crown or accompanies us all to a beach picnic. I feel SO embarrassed and he makes my friends feel really uncomfortable. It's as if he doesn't trust any of us. And how can we have even the most innocent fun when someone's father is there, watching our every move as if he suspected us of getting up to THE most dreadful things?

It's not as though his presence guarantees my safety even. I was very seriously injured after a fracas involving him and, if he hadn't been there, it wouldn't have happened!

I'm sure you can see the quandary I am in so please can you offer me some of your WONDERFUL advice?

Lots of love,

Blond and Beautiful XXXXX

PS And he's very reluctant to buy me a new dress even though he has OODLES and doesn't spend it on anything!

.o00o.

Dear Blond and Beautiful

Thank you for writing me such a nice letter. I hope that after all your kind words, my reply lives up to your expectations.

Let's look at your "PS" first. I think I can conclude straight away from this that your father is a bit of a control freak: he likes to have control of his money and he likes to have control of his family's movements. I am sure that, at the moment, you manage to wheedle the odd dress out of him and I'm afraid that's probably how things will have to continue. I expect your ultimate solution is to find a rich and generous man to marry, LOL, but, until then, I think you will have to accept that it is very difficult to change the ways of a born miser.

As far as your father's presence at all your get-togethers with your friends is concerned….Well, I must admit that his attitude leaves me open-mouthed and cringing. You have my full sympathies. You have got to talk to him – sensibly and rationally – about his attitude. No raised voices, please! And I'd also like to suggest that you have a long conversation with your mother first. I'm sure she will back you and soften him up a little before you corner him on this issue. We men are putty in our wives' hands, you know, and a combined pincer movement is likely to be effective.

Another suggestion is that you ask the most responsible lad in your circle to have a word with him and to assure him that he is keeping an eye on you. I'm sure this will give him considerable confidence in your friends.

But, lastly, can I say that you must remember what lies at the bottom of all this: it is a father's love for a daughter and his concern and care for you.

I hope you make progress with this untenable situation and that you can both come to some kind of compromise.

Best wishes from someone who is a dad himself.

Thorin X

.o00o.

Letter 4

Dear Thorin

I am in a terrible quandary but I can imagine that many of your readers will have no sympathy for me.

When I was a younger woman, I had no end of suitors. And I must say, without being unduly modest, that I was - and still am - a very attractive person. In the end, I married twice but, sadly, both of my husbands have died. After the death of my second, I sat down and thought of a young suitor whom I had – rather cruelly – rejected and suddenly realised that, if I were to marry again, he would be the one. He seemed like only an inadequate youth when I was first looking for a husband but he has since grown into a very handsome and desirable man.

Unfortunately, this realisation may have come too late in the day because the object of my desire has recently married someone else. However, by a strange twist of fate, his wife has just employed me to help her with the new baby. She is finding motherhood heavy going and I am much better with her delightful son than she is herself.

Of course, I am often thrown into the path of her husband and we are often alone together. And I know it is not my imagination when I say that I believe he is still in love with me and realises he has made a mistake in marrying this woman.

So, what should I do? Should I pursue him, even though it may ultimately mean the break-up of his marriage? Should I just indulge in a quiet affair with him? Or should I pack my bags and leave this minute?

Unfulfilled of Ered Luin

.o00o.

Editor's Note: We had so many letters concerning this question that we have decided to publish the responses of some of our readers before we let you know what Thorin has to say on the matter.

.o00o.

Response 1

Go for it, U of EL! You only live once! Your old suitor has obviously made a mistake and is waiting for you to give him a signal. Take him to your bed and then see what happens next. If it breaks up his marriage, then at least two out of three people will be happy. At the moment, I can imagine that three people are feeling rather wretched because his wife must realise that something in her marriage just isn't working properly.

Response 2

You selfish woman! You rejected him when he offered you his love and now you expect that you can just march into his marriage and destroy it with your self-centred desires. I hope his wife catches on and kicks you out!

Response 3

Hmmm. Love triangles are always difficult because who knows how any of the combinations might eventually work out? How about being adult and suggesting a ménage a trois? The three of you already seem to work well as a team especially the child care aspect. I reckon that something sensible could be arranged here.

Response 4

I'd run off with the woman if I were you. Men are always the problem, never the solution.

.o00o.

Dear Unfulfilled of Ered Luin

I'm afraid that I am finding it rather difficult to answer your letter because everything you have told me is only, of course, from your POV.

It is completely on your say-so that I am asked to accept that you are a very attractive woman, that the wife is not coping, that you are better at handling the baby, that this man is still in love with you and that he believes he has made a mistake in marrying his wife. If all these things are true – without a shadow of doubt – then perhaps I might advise you to go after this man and hope for a happy ending. But, since so many of us tend to deceive ourselves and only believe the things we want to believe, I am inclined to think that your perceptions might be wrong and that your old suitor has now made his choice and should be left alone to sort out his marriage without your interference.

Yes, pack your bags and go but leave a forwarding address. If he wants you and thinks his marriage has failed then he will come after you. Otherwise, take his rejection on the chin and look for someone who is single and not committed to another woman and their child.

Yours

Thorin

.o00o.

Letter 5

Dear Thorin

I have quite a straightforward question here: when someone becomes betrothed, should they feel comfortable about following the long-standing tradition of making up the double bed? I say this because my betrothed and I have been sleeping together since exchanging rings and my father makes it quite clear that he doesn't like it.

Should we – just to please him – start retiring to single beds once more and meet up secretly in the woods if we want intimacy? Or is it my father who needs to grow up and give us a bit of space?

Yours in expectation of a sensible response

An Irritated Daughter

.o00o.

Dear Irritated Daughter

I must admit that I am all for following tradition and this one has been with us for so long that no-one can remember its origins. In this respect, I feel you are perfectly entitled to sleep with your betrothed without fear of embarrassment.

Your father sounds rather uptight and puritanical to me, I'm afraid, and it would be interesting to know what his relationship with your mother was once he became betrothed to her. Perhaps you should put him on the spot and ask him, LOL!

I suppose that there might be some element of jealousy involved here when he sees two young lovers together: perhaps his own love-life is now old and tired. But, I can imagine that, at the bottom of it all, is a father's over-protectiveness towards his daughter. Try to keep this in mind when you feel annoyed with him.

My advice to you is just to carry on as if what you are doing is perfectly normal – as I can assure you it is – and I expect that, in the end, he will accept the whole relationship. Just DON'T go sneaking off into the woods. That seems to me to be merely deceitful.

Wishing you many congratulations on your betrothal

Thorin

.o00o.

Letter 6

Dear Thorin

I have been married for some years now and I love my wife desperately. Our jobs require us both to travel a lot and when we are separated for a few weeks we miss each other to the point of pain.

However, in recent months, I have developed an increasing urge to become a father. And the problem is….? Well, because of our jobs, it would mean that my wife would have to settle with the children some distance from me and we might not see each other for months on end. It has been a difficult decision to make but I have finally concluded that I want children enough to put up with the separation.

Unfortunately, my wife has come to the opposite conclusion. She regularly takes an infusion of fennel to prevent a pregnancy and, no matter how much I have discussed the matter with her, begging and pleading with her to give me a child, she has adamantly refused to agree.

My increasing desperation is such that I have begun to try all sorts of underhand methods to get her pregnant. Whilst we were travelling a few weeks ago, she discovered that she had accidentally left her fennel draught at home. I assured her that I would find some fennel the very next morning if she would agree to make love. And, I did find some. But I lied and told her that there was none in the area. This resulted in her going off to find some of her own a few days later and this unfortunately led to a miscarriage. I cannot tell you how that broke my heart. I blame myself, of course, for the loss of that child. But, not completely. Surely my wife should have been aware of what she might be doing by taking that infusion so late in the day?

As each day goes past, I am becoming more and more obsessed with the situation. Becoming a father is now my one aim in life. I find this difficult to confess to you, but my desire for a child is leading me to conclude that the only way I shall ever have one is if I force my attentions upon my wife. She was so upset when she lost the last one that, surely, once she becomes pregnant, her maternal instincts will kick in and she will want to keep the child?

I already feel an awful person for even considering these thoughts in the first place and I hope you won't rush to pass judgement on me. I just need you to tell me what to do.

Broody Northerner

.o00o.

Dear Broody Northerner

I feel your pain. It is a wonderful thing to become a father and, since my own road to fatherhood was not without difficulties, I understand why you are so upset about this whole business.

But, listen to yourself! "I have discussed the matter with her…" No, you haven't. What you mean is: "I have tried to impose my will upon her." And, when you have failed to get your own way, you have descended into lying and cheating. And now you are even considering violence. Sit back a minute and think. What is happening to your marriage? You are talking about a woman whom you purport to love "desperately". If you loved her, you would be thinking of ways to nurse her through this crisis rather than forcing her into something she just isn't ready for. You may get your baby but you will certainly lose her love if you carry on like this.

Now, you need to ask yourself some questions. Has she got maternal instincts? If she has then you're in with a chance and you must learn to have patience. And, just to encourage her: is it really necessary for her to move so far away with the children that you only see her once in a blue moon? I can imagine that this is what is bothering her the most. Do you not have any parents/inlaws who live closer to your place of work? I know it might be difficult to ask them for help, particularly if they are getting on a bit, but if you discuss your problems with them honestly, I think you'd be surprised at how willing some people might be to muck in and throw open their home to you. Babies and children might even make them feel young again.

You love your wife and she loves you. So, don't go and spoil it all by doing something stupid. Get on to those relatives straight away!

Yours

Thorin

.o00o.

Letter 7

Dear Thorin

I am writing to tell you how my life has been destroyed by one man.

I first saw him at a party when I was only a teenager. He was so beautiful and so unlike any other man I had ever seen before. He entertained us with his singing and his voice was so deep and thrilling that my whole body seemed to vibrate along with his harmonies.

I fell in love with him there and then and, fifteen years later, I am still in love with him. And how has he destroyed my life? He has spoiled me for any other man and I can't stop thinking about him after all this time.

Unfortunately, he is now married with children. There appears to be no hope for me and the only way out, as far as I can see, is to kill myself. I carry a knife with me everywhere and, one day, I hope I can summon up enough courage to use it.

With love from

Infatuated

.o00o.

Dear Infatuated

No, no, no! Please don't talk about suicide when you are so young still and the whole world lies before you. Somehow, you must drive this man from your mind. You have fallen in love with a fantasy image and, if you really got to know him, you might find that he did not live up to your imaginary version of him.

Try to convince yourself that he just isn't worth knowing; get out and about more and look for an alternative; unload your thoughts to a trusted friend and listen to their advice; speak to your physician because I'm sure this is a really unhealthy obsession. Even, as a final solution, approach this man and tell him how you have loved him all these years. This last would be, I am sure, a cruel but effective remedy because he would probably recoil from you in shock and disgust. And then, seeing yourself as others see you would doubtless open your eyes and you would see how you have wasted your life all these years.

My final words? Do ANYTHING rather than kill yourself.

Be safe

Thorin

Editor's note: Perhaps some readers will remember an incident at a soiree in Barnaby Waller's house some years ago. "Infatuated" took Thorin's advice to heart and, rather than kill herself, attempted to kill the object of her passion instead. Being a columnist can sometimes be a dangerous job.

.o00o.

Letter 8

Dear Thorin

I know you will doubtless accuse me of being young and foolish but I think I may be in love with the woman who nearly became my step-mother. When my own mother died, I thought that my father was going to marry this woman. She was very, very kind to me and supported me through this difficult time.

Eventually, the two decided not to get married after all and, in many ways, I was very disappointed. However, this woman is only slightly older than me and very beautiful. Once I grew up, I did begin to feel a certain physical attraction towards her and I did wonder if anything would happen between us. But she has married someone else and has moved away.

Now, I know her husband is her choice and is nothing to do with me, but I feel very protective of her and I really don't think this is the man for her. I live in a very tight-knit society from which this man does not come and I have to say that this person is very non-U. I do wonder how long their marriage will last.

The reason why I am writing to you now is because this woman and her family have recently come to visit mine. I was just so thrilled to see her and she was delighted to see me. When I embraced and kissed her, I could see straight away that her husband was very jealous. In fact, he was very jealous of anyone who came anywhere near her. They are off visiting someone else at the moment but will soon be passing through again.

Everyone says that I have a very good sense of humour and I have an overwhelming urge to tease the husband when they return. There are various reasons for doing this: when he reacts badly – as I'm sure he will – it might make her think twice about the person she has married. Secondly, the husband might realise what a cad he is being and his behaviour might improve. And, lastly, for my own selfish pleasure, I suppose that the lady in question might even turn to me for comfort.

Am I being really awful?

Prince of the Forest

.o00o.

Dear Prince of the Forest

"Am I being really awful?" Yes, you jolly well are. And you deserve a good cuff around the ear.

This woman has shown you nothing but kindness and, in return, what are you trying to do to her marriage? Break it up? So that you can get your own feet under the table? How selfish is that? I'm sure she is well aware of her husband's jealousy – and perhaps she even likes it that way. It might make her feel desirable and wanted. Who knows?

But, to begin at the beginning: you "think" you may be in love with her. I can assure you that you're not. People often feel drawn to those that help them through difficult times and this is all that has happened here. Time to move on. The physical attraction that you feel for her is only the natural attraction that a young man might feel for a beautiful woman. If you really felt "protective" of her, then you would not be planning to interfere with her marriage

"I live in a very tight-knit society from which this man does not come and I have to say that this person is very non-U." And how snobbish is that? No wonder she married someone from the "outside" and has moved away from you all! Think on this: which of you is truly the "cad"?

I hope that you will keep your teasing to yourself and not be provocative when this couple returns. If you do tease him and he is, as you say, a very jealous man, then I cannot answer for the consequences. Don't say that I haven't warned you!

Yours apprehensively

Thorin

.o00o.

Letter 9

Dear Thorin

When I first met and married my husband twenty plus years ago, my biggest concern was our age difference since I am a much older woman. I did wonder if the older I got the less attractive he might find me and now I feel that my fears are being realised.

We have always had a very active sex life but for the past year or so this has only amounted to three – or even only two - times a night. I do the best I can: I tug his plaits, I'm into role play, I seldom wear my night gown to bed. But, I am beginning to feel that he doesn't find me attractive any more and I was wondering if you had any suggestions to make as to how an older woman could increase her sexual magnetism.

Yours

Frustrated at the Crossroads

.o00o.

Dear Frustrated at the Crossroads

You have obviously been an excellent wife all these years and I would hasten to calm your fears. What you have to remember here is that your husband is getting older too and that you should not expect the same level of performance from him as when he was a younger man.

Now, I know you might not believe my personal opinion that three times a night seems a perfectly adequate number of times for you to be making love. And so, I have checked around the office of the GHFP on the subject. At first all the blokes were a bit taken aback by my question and it obviously embarrassed them to reveal things about their private lives but, in the end, they gave their opinion that three times a night was just about right. The Editor himself said: "Good lord! Three times a night, you say? No, I don't think the lady has much to worry about there. That seems perfectly fine to me. Yes. Absolutely."

I hope you take some comfort in this. You appear to have a successful and happy marriage and I sincerely hope that you spend many more happy years together.

Yours

Thorin

.o00o.

SPECIAL OFFER: If ordered through our office, LETTERS TO THORIN can be bought at the discount price of 2 silver groats.

.o00o.

Hope that made you smile! Next episode: Poppy takes Control. How will Thorin's daughter cope without him? Will her marriage to Lostwithiel prove successful, or will she begin to look elsewhere?


	30. Chapter 30 His Daughter Takes Control

Well, dear readers, it's not quite all over yet. What are the rest of them doing back in Ered Luin whilst Thorin languishes amongst the elves? How is Poppy's marriage to Lostwithiel turning out? How are they both managing without Thorin's guiding hand? Will she make a mess of things up at the outpost or will she and her new husband finally pull through?

This story was inspired by a recent visit to an "outpost", a Roman fort up on Hadrian's Wall in the UK where I learned that the Roman historian, Tacitus, objected to the commander of such forts bringing his wife with him. Being the only lady present, she could apparently wrap the centurions around her little finger. Sounds like Poppy to me, LOL!

.o00o.

THORIN'S DAUGHTER TAKES CONTROL

Pt I

Lostwithiel and Poppy had been married for several months and now she was bored and fretful.

She didn't know what she would have done without him those first weeks after Thorin and Tauriel had departed for the Undying Lands. She had missed her parents so much but 'Thiel had tenderly wrapped her in his arms and had stroked her hair and kissed her until the pain had lessened and she had felt ready to face the world again.

Strangely enough, the elf had seemed to miss Thorin almost as much as she did and this was odd because, through their long acquaintance, he and Thorin had always seemed to rub each other up the wrong way. But, some weeks after her parents' departure, she had found him sitting on a high bluff near their new home, staring blindly at the view. "What's wrong, 'Thiel?" she had asked gently, sitting next to him and putting an arm around his shoulders.

"I wish your father were still here," he had said. "I feel so lost without him."

She wondered if he missed her mother too – perhaps even more. She had always had her suspicions about the two of them and, although she knew none of the details, she had not been above teasing both her husband and her father about it which usually left Thorin very grumpy and Lostwithiel looking very embarrassed. But when she asked, he said: "Of course I miss her. She was always a very important part of my life. She helped me to grow up. But your father…." And he tailed off, unable to explain the odd connection that had developed between them.

Poppy hadn't pressed him any further but had kissed him gently and said: "We shall all be together again one day and, in the meantime, he wanted us to get on with our lives."

That had been the turning point for both of them. They had cheered up and put their minds to other things like the completion of their manor up by the outpost. It was a beautiful house in a lovely spot and they had both used their creative energies in its design and decoration. Now, thought Poppy, as she lay in her elegant bed which faced the large window so that she had a spectacular view down the valley, this was when she had imagined that they could start enjoying their lives together.

But, she was lying alone.

Two things had happened immediately after Thorin and Tauriel's departure: Lostwithiel had been created the new captain at the outpost and a small band of new recruits had arrived from the Grey Havens. This first had been a very pleasing event. The elf had worked hard ever since he had helped to set up the outpost years ago. He had been Tauriel's subordinate but had been left in sole charge more often than not and so was the obvious choice as her replacement. Lostwithiel was pleased because it was a sign that his work had been appreciated and Poppy was pleased because she basked in the idea of being the captain's wife and in the rise in status that his new position gave her.

The arrival of the new recruits was also a plus at first because they added a bit of variety to the social scene at the outpost. But then the downside to the situation reared its head. There were four of them and, in return for their presence, four of the old group were temporarily assigned to the elven guard in the town so that they could share some of their skills and knowledge. And so Lostwithiel found himself with two problems: he had to train up a new bunch of soldiers and he had to compensate for the loss of experienced men.

When Lostwithiel had first set eyes on Meldreth, Ystrel, Tannith and Brand, he had laughed loudly to himself. My goodness! This must be just how he and his companions had looked to Tauriel on their first day at the farmhouse. They were dressed in bright silks, totally inappropriate for the task ahead; they were pale and slim, not bronzed and muscular like him and his men; their swords looked like toys; their hair was much too long and they held themselves with an elegant nonchalance that just wouldn't do at all. And a little smirk slipped from his lips. It was going to be fun knocking this lot into shape.

Remembering how Tauriel had set about things, he was firm and even a little cruel and soon they were wearing their uniforms having reluctantly cast off their fine clothes and were assigned all sorts of demeaning tasks that they no longer complained about even though they still looked a bit sullen. They should count themselves lucky, thought Lostwithiel, that they had decent beds to sleep in and that the farmhouse was now well-organised; and he grinned when he thought of the bed-rolls and the tumbledown nature of the outpost when they had first arrived.

But, the biggest problem was the shortage of experienced men and, after a meeting with the original troops, it was decided that it was best not to let any of the newcomers out on night patrol but that the trained few would take turns to do this duty and that Lostwithiel would nobly go out every night with them. After a sleep on their return home, they would then do weapons training for the rest of the afternoon. Once the others returned from the Grey Havens after six weeks, then things would return to normal and the four new elves would be trained in the art of night patrols.

"But, it's not fair!" moaned Poppy. "You'll be exhausted, 'Thiel. Why do you have to go out every night for 6 weeks?"

"Tauriel always led by example," he sighed. "And it won't be too bad as long as I can get some decent sleep during the day."

But these night duties were becoming a bit of a problem. So far, it had only been going on for three weeks and, as Poppy had predicted, Lostwithiel was exhausted. And she really, really missed him at night. Before the arrival of the newbies, their time in bed together had just been getting better and better. They both loved the physical side of their marriage, were very well suited and laughed a lot together. But now Poppy, as she had done for the past three weeks, was lying in bed alone, waiting for the dawn to come and, with it, Lostwithiel.

At last, the sun came up and she heard Lostwithiel quietly open the front door. She quickly whipped off her nightgown, jumped back under the coverlet and closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep. The elf, as usual, took some time getting ready for bed downstairs so that he wouldn't disturb her and then crept very quietly up the stairs and into their room. Then he carefully pulled back the bedclothes and eased himself very, very gently onto the mattress, as far away from Poppy as possible.

But Poppy immediately slid across the bed and threw an arm about him. Lostwithiel's heart sank. "Don't come too close, Poppy," he tried to laugh. "I'm really cold." And he was. He made her think of the forests, all cool and fresh and smelling of pine needles and damp grass.

"Take your nightgown off, 'Thiel," she giggled. "I'll soon warm you up." And, reluctantly, he took off his nightgown and drew her into his arms. She felt like a little furnace, wrapping herself around his cold limbs and, pulling him tighter, she began to cover him in kisses. "I've been thinking of you making love to me all night," she whispered breathily in his ear.

But he murmured: "You know how tired I feel after a patrol, Poppy. I've just got to get some sleep." Then he kissed her on the forehead, lay back on the pillow and was snoring almost immediately.

Poppy stroked and kissed him for a while, hoping that her caresses would wake him up, but he didn't stir. Then she lay back on her own pillow, tossed and turned for an hour and, when Lostwithiel was still out cold, finally got up. She ate her breakfast sullenly, spent a long time doing her hair and, after choosing her dress for the day, decided to go up to the farmhouse.

.o00o.

Pt II

Poppy wasn't quite sure what she had expected of marriage. At first she had imagined a delightful round of dinner parties, visits, picnics and torrid nights in bed with her gorgeous husband. And it was definitely NOT going to be tedious, not like her life down at the forge had been. But first, the two of them had been drained by the anguish of her parents' departure and then, when she was ready to face the world, there didn't seem to be much of the world to face.

Lostwithiel and Arion were involved in their duties and she really only expected to see Rose and Telbarad once in a blue moon. Dis tried to visit her regularly, Barnaby Waller occasionally invited her to visit Cat and Roger in the Grey Havens and Challis, when she wasn't busy, would sometimes pop over to the manor for a little chat. But that was it. She was going mad with boredom, particularly now that 'Thiel was on night patrol and had even less time for her.

"What about these dinner-parties you were thinking of holding?" asked Dis.

Poppy pulled a face. "Well, I'm not interested in hands on cooking, only in being a good hostess. I need a trained cook to work here; someone who could help me sort out recipes; someone I could order around and who would do all the work whilst I moved elegantly amongst my guests. I've been looking for one in the Grey Havens, but I can't find anyone suitable yet. Most women want to work in the town, not up here in the back of beyond." Poppy had, in fact, begun to wonder if some of her concerns about marrying Lostwithiel and moving up to the outpost weren't being realised. The compromises they had decided on didn't seem to be working at the moment.

"Well, what about helping out at the farmhouse?" suggested Dis. "They're struggling a bit with the new recruits and could do with an extra hand."

"I must admit," said Poppy with a sidelong look at her aunt, "I don't fancy cleaning or cooking which is all they'd want me for." And then she sat back and waited with a sigh of resignation for the telling off that she knew was coming.

"Oh, Poppy," said Dis in an irritated voice, "you're such a lazy little thing. They're really struggling up there and you sit around all day moaning that you're bored. If you would only pull your finger out and get stuck in, I expect all that time on your hands would soon disappear."

Right, aunt. Finished, are we? thought Poppy, but she was used to her by now and bit her tongue.

"Well, perhaps," she said.

But this was why she had put on a nice dress and was off to offer her services at the outpost. The nice dress was meant to discourage them from suggesting that she do too much – if any – dirty, heavy work. Perhaps she could just … "direct" them.

She was a favourite with the old guard who had known her all her life; but they still treated her like a child even though she was now a grown-up, married woman. She had only been introduced briefly to the newcomers and she wondered if they would treat her differently. As the captain's wife, she was determined to greet them with an air of authority and then, perhaps, they would show her a bit of respect.

Lithin emerged just as she approached the front door. He hadn't been out with the night patrol but had been left in charge of the new elves. "Hello, Popps," he said. "Have you come to pay us a visit? You must be bored." And he laughed.

Typical, thought Poppy. It was about time he addressed her as "madam". But, even "Poppy" would be better than that childish name.

"Show a bit of respect, Lithin," she said tartly, with her nose in the air. "I'm married to your captain now."

But he just laughed again and, coming up to her, gave her a hug. "Oh, Poppy," he said, "you'll never change, will you? How can I tug my forelock when I used to change your diaper?"

"Well," she grumbled, "at least don't call me Popps. And," she said, trying to look dignified, "perhaps you shouldn't hug me any more. It's not really appropriate."

So, Lithin let her go but kissed her on the nose. "Will that do instead?" he asked with a grin.

She had difficulty controlling a giggle – she just loved this troop of soldiers too much to be cross with any of them. "I shall tell 'Thiel," she said, trying to be severe, "and then you'll finish up in the guardhouse."

Lithin pulled a contrite face. "But, the trouble is, Poppy, we haven't got a guardhouse. Will a nice, hot cup of tea serve as a penance instead?"

She punched him lightly on the shoulder. "Oh-h…..you," she said. "I hope the new arrivals know their place better than you do."

"Have you come to help, then?" he asked, looking pleased. "They spend every morning in the kitchen, preparing lunch. You could help out a bit there. They're rather bad-tempered, you know, about doing chores – just like the rest of us were. But there's very little else they can do until our other men return. Then we'll have time to train them properly." He grinned. "I'm sure you can sweet-talk them, Poppy."

Poppy quite fancied the idea of sweet-talking a group of handsome, young elf lords. Perhaps her time here wouldn't be so boring after all.

"I'll see what I can do," she said.

Lithin escorted her to the kitchen where they found Meldreth trying to light the range, Ystrel and Tannith peeling vegetables and Brand preparing pastry for an apple pie. She could see straight away that they were making heavy going of it. They looked up as she entered the room.

"The captain's lady has come to see if she can help in any way," said Lithin.

With amusement, Poppy saw that they looked ready to pass over their tools and sit with their feet up whilst she got on with it. Think again, she thought. She sat up to the table and smoothed her pretty frock whilst they all came to join her. Lithin decided to give them a break and made tea for them from the kettle of hot water that hung over the fire.

"You look as though you need a bit of advice," she smiled at them over the edge of her cup.

"Yes, we do," grinned Meldreth who looked to be the youngest. "I can get an open fire going, just about," and he nodded at the grate, "but these stoves are a mystery to me."

"And," said Brand shyly, "my pastry keeps breaking up every time I try to roll it. I'm making a real mess of this apple pie."

Poppy was flattered by the way they all looked at her as if she were the answer to their prayers. And so she graciously rolled up her sleeves and donned an apron. Then she went from elf to elf as they continued their chores, offering a tip here and helping out a little there until she felt like queen of the kitchen.

Ystrel and Tannith were the oldest and most confident and they bandied words with her over the vegetables. "Our captain is a lucky man, having someone like you running his home," said Ystrel flirtatiously.

"And such a lovely home," said Tannith with an ingratiating smile. "Perhaps you could give us all a guided tour some time and show us what you've achieved." Poppy nodded, pleased at their interest.

"A beautiful home and a beautiful wife," continued Ystrel smoothly. "Yes, he's really lucky."

Poppy was basking in the flattery and enjoyed her morning so much that she didn't notice the time. She had planned only to stay a couple of hours and then return to the manor and get back into bed with Lostwithiel just before he stirred to see if his interest had improved. She didn't hold out much hope because the last time she had done this, he had woken up, taken one startled look at the position of the sun and had then jumped out of bed in a panic, certain he was going to be late for duty. And so, she didn't feel that she had missed out on anything when the morning passed in a flash and the men started turning up for lunch, her husband among them.

He found her in the midst of an admiring group, putting the finishing touches in the form of a vase of flowers on the kitchen table. He wasn't quite sure he was happy with the way that Ystrel was standing rather close to her, kissing her hand and thanking her for all her help or the way that Tannith then put his arm around her waist and escorted her to a seat at the head of the table.

Meldreth raised his glass of wine to her, saying to the assembled company, "And if the meal is in any way edible today, it is all thanks to our captain's lady." And when they raised their glasses and cheered, then Poppy just had to blush. After that, they raised their glasses to Lostwithiel for lending his wife to them for the morning.

"And we'd really like to borrow her again," said Ystrel in silky tones and Poppy giggled.

For some reason, Lostwithiel felt like punching him on the nose.

.o00o.

Pt III

And borrow her the elves certainly did for the next six days. Lostwithiel no longer had to worry that his wife would accost him as soon as he got into bed each morning. As soon as he got in, she got out, hurrying downstairs to eat her breakfast and then to dash off to the farmhouse to help her new bunch of friends with their household tasks.

The elf felt vaguely annoyed. "But, you've never been interested in housework before," he said. "Why now?"

"Because it's fun," she said. She was emptying half her wardrobe, holding up dress after dress against herself in the mirror and discarding them with a tut. "I really could do with some new clothes, 'Thiel," she said. "Ystrel plans to go down to the Grey Havens today to buy some provisions. Do you mind if I go with him? He's taking the trap and perhaps I could help him – in between buying some dresses."

Lostwithiel tried hard to think of a reason for saying no, but none sprang to mind. He had warmed to Ystrel the least of the newbies and had already had a few minor confrontations with him. For some reason, he didn't like the idea of the handsome elf lord spending all day with his wife. But, she needed a bit of cheering up and so he told her to go ahead, buy a few new frocks and have a good time.

Poppy set off later that morning in the trap with Ystrel and enjoyed the rather suggestive sparring that went on between them. It made her feel wanted - which was more than 'Thiel had made her feel for the past three weeks and more. It was nice to know that Ystrel would doubtless jump into bed with her at the drop of a hat, even if her husband was only looking for sleep when he was lying next to her.

Ystrel looked curiously at Poppy as she sat beside him on the seat. "I hear your father was a dwarf," he said.

Poppy's eyes softened. "Yes," she replied. "He was a great warrior and King Under the Mountain until he gave it all up and returned with my mother to Ered Luin."

"Hmm," continued Ystrel. "I've had very little to do with dwarves, but I've been told that they are noted for their – vigour." And he looked at her from under his eyelashes. "Do you think this is a characteristic that you've inherited from him?"

Poppy pretended not to understand but laughed and said, "Well, I don't seem to show much vigour when I'm trying to get up in the morning, so I think my father would say not."

"Ah, then," said Ystrel, "perhaps it's your husband who is the vigorous one." And he gave her a slight leer.

Poppy didn't mind the turn the conversation was taking. It amused her. Ystrel underestimated her, it would seem, and she was more than happy to cross swords with him.

"Well," she said with a pout, "I think these constant night patrols are sapping him of all his energy. He's exhausted when he comes home and I shall be glad when it's over."

Ystrel couldn't believe the opening that Poppy had given him and his eyes glittered. Yes, I thought that would be your reaction, grinned Poppy to herself.

"Ah," he said. "Our noble leader, thinking of his men and sacrificing his wife on the altar of duty."

Poppy found the picture of herself as the sacrificial victim difficult to imagine but she gave a little tragic sigh.

Ystrel reached out and covered her hand gently with his own. "You're so young and beautiful," he murmured. "If there's anything I can do, then you know where to find me." And Poppy knew precisely what comfort he was offering and didn't think she would be going in search of him in the near future.

But, this sort of flirtatious conversation certainly helped the miles to flash past. Ystrel thought of her dwarven blood and decided that her difference perhaps bent and even broke the rules. He definitely felt a certain freedom from normal elven moral etiquette. And, from her behaviour, Poppy felt it too. It didn't seem long before they reached the Silver Bear where the horse and trap were stabled while they took a few refreshments and then went about their various tasks.

Poppy spent an extremely enjoyable afternoon, trying on and purchasing various dresses whilst Ystrel ran around the town with his shopping list. When they met up again on the terrace of the inn late that afternoon, she was tired and ready to go home. It had been a lovely, sunny day with clear, blue skies when they had set out, but, as Ystrel prepared to fetch the trap, a huge black cloud suddenly covered the sun, a violent wind whipped up out of nowhere and a few spots of rain began to fall. Neither of them had come dressed for bad weather and Poppy eyed the sky anxiously.

"Perhaps it's only a late summer storm," she said, "and it will blow over in an hour."

"B'aint a summer storm, missy," said an old man sitting on the verandah and smoking his pipe. "This'un'll last the whole night an'll drown the world."

"You don't know that," said Poppy, keen to be on her way.

"Why, that I do, young miss," he replied confidently, and he pointed to a gathering of starlings which had started to perch under the eaves of the inn:

'When two starlings huddle,

We'll get only a puddle.

When there's more in the mix

Then it's set in 'til six.'

This'un will drench us until tomorrow morning."

Poppy felt a bit panicky. She didn't want to stay in the inn overnight; nor yet did she want to be soaked to the skin. But the skies were darkening by the minute and suddenly there was a great jagged flash of lightning, closely followed by a crack of thunder which seemed to boom directly over their heads.

"Arr, here she comes," said the old man in satisfied tones.

"Don't worry," said Ystrel smoothly, "I'll book us a couple of rooms here at the inn. We can continue on our way early tomorrow morning."

"But, what about my husband?" Poppy asked worriedly.

"No problem," replied the elf lord. "He'll be out all night himself and, by the time he gets home and realises you're not there, he'll only have a couple of hours to wonder what has happened to us and we shall be back. He will guess anyway and will doubtless thank me for not dragging you home through a bad storm."

There was no alternative and Ystrel went to book two rooms for them.

"They're right next to each other," he said, "so, if you get frightened by the storm in the night….." And he left the sentence hanging.

That evening, he escorted her to a secluded booth just off the main tap area where they ate their meal. Ystrel seemed emboldened by the circumstances and, much to Poppy's annoyance, used every excuse to touch her. He sat next to her rather than across from her and pressed his leg hard against her own. He kissed her hand and told her what a lucky man Lostwithiel was. He ran a finger down her cheek and told her that she was beautiful.

Poppy didn't make a fuss but carried on talking in her usual light and spirited way. But, soon after the meal was finished, she yawned politely behind her hand and said she was tired and wanted to go to bed. Ystrel didn't seem to mind but said he was also ready for bed. And then he showed her to her room. He would have followed her in if she hadn't blocked his way.

"Do you need any help?" he asked her in a sultry voice, leaning against the door jamb. "You know you only have to ask."

But Poppy managed to edge him politely out of the doorway; then, with a sigh of relief, she shut and locked the door behind him.

After she had locked the door, she felt safe, got undressed and, once in bed, fell almost immediately asleep. She was only disturbed about an hour later when she heard the door knob being quietly tried. But, knowing it was firmly locked, she just turned over and went back to sleep.

Poppy was up early and ready to go the next morning. It had been a bad night and the inn yard was flooded. Ystrel looked tired and bad-tempered but they were soon on their way.

Interestingly, her locked door had not discouraged him and he pressed his suit more forcefully than before. So confident was he of his own attractions that he saw this only as a minor hiccup in a long game. He knew how some ladies liked to lead a man on and he was certain that he recognised the dance that Poppy was tripping. She wanted to be caught and catch her he would.

When they were only a mile from the farmhouse, he turned to her and said: "I don't think we need play games any more, do we, Poppy?"

She gave him a wide-eyed look and assured him that she was not interested in playing games, most certainly not.

Ystrel looked pleased that his blunt approach had paid off. "So, perhaps we could meet somewhere tomorrow night whilst you husband is on duty? Your house, perhaps?"

"No, no, not the house. I couldn't do that to him," she murmured. "How about in the copse on the far side of the flower meadow?" she suggested. "Just before midnight. It's a full moon."

"Very romantic," he smirked. "Where in the copse do you suggest?"

"Well," she said coyly, "since one tree looks like another to me, perhaps we could arrange a series of signals."

"Signals?"

"Yes. When you get there, hoot twice like a barn owl and once like a screech owl and I'll reply in the same way."

"Eh….oh, all right then," said Ystrel blinking but feeling too pleased that he had arranged a tryst to question the details.

And then they had arrived at the farmhouse, just in time for lunch.

.o00o.

Pt IV

Lostwithiel arrived within minutes. "Thank goodness," he said, giving her a hug.

"We stopped at the Silver Bear," said Poppy cheerfully. "The storm was just too bad."

"I thought as much," he replied. But he gave Ystrel an uneasy glance.

Everyone was busy that afternoon and weapons training had to be cancelled.

Tannith's job was to find fruits and nuts and berries in the woods, but he sidled up to Poppy as the room cleared and asked her in husky tones if she could possibly come with him as he was pretty hopeless at this sort of thing.

Not another one, grinned Poppy. This could work even better than she had first thought.

She had on one of her new frocks and as she held the wicker basket for him to fill with the wild produce, she knew she was presenting a very pretty picture. After an hour of this gathering, he finally threw down his cloak in the dappled shade of a tree and brought out a small snack – some cake and a bottle of wine.

Tannith was as old as Ystrel but he had a certain boyish charm which he used to good effect, thought Poppy. As she finished her cake, he suddenly seized her hand and whispered: "I haven't slept for more than a week and it's all your fault, Poppy."

"My fault?" she asked innocently.

"I can't stop thinking about you, you must know that. Every night, I lie in my bed and I think about you lying – alone – in your bed. I could bring you some comfort."

My goodness, thought Poppy. All this comforting I seem to be in need of. But she squeezed his hand and asked him what he was suggesting.

Hardly believing that he had made such good headway, Tannith kissed her hand passionately. "Perhaps we can meet here, in these woods, tonight."

"No, not these woods," said Poppy thoughtfully. "They're too far from the house. How about in that pretty copse on the far side of the flower meadow? Just after midnight. We could have a signal, perhaps."

"A signal?" he asked.

"Yes, a signal. You could hoot twice like a barn owl and once like a screech owl and then I'd know it was you."

"Yes – right," he said, startled.

"Lovely," she said. And she leapt to her feet and went dancing and laughing with her basket back to the farmhouse with Tannith running behind her, totally enchanted.

.o00o.

When Lostwithiel kissed her goodbye that evening, he held her face between his hands and searched it carefully. "Are you happy, Poppy?" he asked.

"Of course I am, 'Thiel," she said. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason," he said, and he spun on his heel and went off on patrol whilst Poppy turned thoughtfully back into the house. But, what Poppy didn't know was that her husband had no patrol that night. He had asked Rostrel to take over from him on the grounds of exhaustion and Rostrel had willingly agreed.

"You should have said something before now," he sympathised. "We've all thought that you being out every night like this was above and beyond the call of duty, you know."

And so, the patrol had left without him and now he was hurrying up to the farmhouse to lurk in the shadows because he had a very bad feeling about tonight. Ever since Ystrel had got back with Poppy from the Grey Havens, he had been wearing a self-satisfied expression on his handsome face and all the alarm bells were ringing. Just before midnight, the elf felt his suspicions were justified as he saw a heavily cloaked Ystrel emerge from the farmhouse and set out for the copse at the rear of the barn.

Lostwithiel felt sad and miserable and defeated and angry all in one go. He had always found it difficult to believe that the beautiful Poppy was really in love with him and he felt a strange, distorted pleasure in discovering that his doubts had been justified. But, he wouldn't give her up without a fight. She would not go on this assignation with Ystrel if he could prevent it and he dashed back to his house in order to cut her off at the pass.

But, he didn't intercept her and when he reached his manor, it was all in darkness except for the lamp that was always left burning in the hall. She must have left already. And with a sob of misery, he seized the lamp and charged up the stairs to their bedroom just to prove to himself the awful truth that she was no longer in the house.

"'Thiel?" murmured Poppy sleepily as she turned over in bed. "What are you doing here?"

"Poppy!" he gasped. "I thought – Ystrel – I saw him – the woods….." and he stuttered to a halt as a feeling of intense relief swept through him.

"Put down the lamp, 'Thiel," said Poppy, "and come here." And she held out her beautiful white arms to him.

He did as he was told and, throwing off his cloak, pulled her tightly against his chest and buried his face in her neck.

"Oh, 'Thiel," she whispered in his ear. "What have you been thinking?"

"I've been thinking," he whispered back, "that you were just too beautiful to love me."

She stroked his hair and showered kisses upon his face and then said sternly: "Now just you get your clothes off this very minute and get into bed with me and I'll be only too pleased to demonstrate how much I love you, you silly boy!"

.o00o.

Some time later, as Lostwithiel lay blissfully smiling in his wife's arms, he suddenly blinked and said: "But what on earth was Ystrel doing, sneaking off to the woods at night?"

"Well," laughed Poppy," if you had bothered to wait another 5 minutes, you would have seen Tannith heading in the same direction. They both thought they were going to meet me in the woods. I just wanted to punish them a little for trying to seduce the captain's lady."

Then she told him the whole story and they both lay there roaring with laughter at the thought of the two elf lords stumbling around in the dark, hooting twice like a barn owl and once like a screech owl, until finally coming face to face with each other and realising that the captain's lady wasn't such an easy catch after all but had managed to dupe them both.

.o00o.


	31. Chapter 31 His Daughter Finds a Cook

And another Poppy and Lostwithiel story in which I reintroduce a character from Poppy's younger life. (Thorin and the Runaway). If Thorin were still around, I can't see him allowing his daughter to get friendly with this one again. But, perhaps Thorin would have been wrong – or perhaps not, LOL!

.o00o.

THORIN'S DAUGHTER FINDS A COOK

Pt I

It had been some weeks since Poppy had made fools out of Ystrel and Tannith. Lostwithiel had found a good reason to quietly send them back to the base in the Grey Havens, his own men had returned to the outpost and the elf was no longer doing night duty. Things should be settling down nicely now but Lostwithiel felt unhappy.

Poppy had yet to find her raison d'être - or a cook to work with her, for that matter. She still drifted aimlessly around the farmhouse and her husband felt that this was stirring up potential problems. The two new, young elves, Meldreth and Brand, gazed after her with longing sheep's eyes and neglected their duties. And the rest of them, who had known Poppy since she was born, were easily manipulated by his wife: he often found them running around doing little services for her instead of doing what they were supposed to be doing.

"When are you going to find this cook, Poppy, so that you can start holding dinner parties?" he asked her one night as they lay in bed.

Poppy sighed. "There just don't seem to be any available," she said. "At least I can't find any who are willing to work right up here, away from their families and friends."

"You know I don't mind if you offer them an outrageous salary," said the handsome elf. "Anything to make my wife happy and get her what she wants." And he nibbled her neck.

"Dis is coming to visit tomorrow," mused Poppy thoughtfully. "Perhaps we could go on down to the Grey Havens together and make a thorough search. We could stop with Barnaby and Roger – they or their servants might have some suggestions."

"Can I make a few suggestions?" asked Lostwithiel innocently.

"Of course you can," she said.

And then the elf whispered a whole load of filthy suggestions in her ear which totally drove out all thought of finding a good cook for the rest of the night.

.o00o.

She and Dis set off on horseback the next day although Dis complained that two long journeys in one day were a bit hard on her back. Most of the trip was spent with Poppy listening to Dis going on at length as to what she thought made an acceptable cook.

"Make sure she's a nice, clean woman from a decent family….she's got to have at least two sets of references…no-one too old in case she can't stand the pace….and no-one too young in case she spends too much time flirting with those lads up at the farmhouse…not a married woman…..no-one with children….make sure you taste a good sample of her cooking…..find out why she's happy to leave her current employment…..if she's not employed, find out why too…" And so it drifted on. At this rate, Poppy couldn't imagine anyone who was good enough to measure up to Dis' exacting standards and wearily expected that they would return home, yet again, without the required servant.

Barnaby and Roger were more than pleased to greet the pair and little Cat was so excited that she did a special double cartwheel. But, the evening was drawing on, Cat was put to bed and Dis retired early after a quick meal because she felt so exhausted. So, Poppy was left on her own to discuss ways and means of finding a cook with the two men.

"Well, I hope you don't intend to lure away any of my kitchen-staff," laughed Barnaby.

"Very unlikely," grunted Roger. "Who would want to exchange a luxurious house like this, in the middle of town, for an isolated – and dangerous – outpost?"

"Someone who wants to be the only unmarried woman amongst a whole bunch of handsome elf lords?" suggested Poppy.

Roger harrumphed – he's becoming quite middle-aged in his attitudes, thought Poppy – but Barnaby just laughed. "You really had a good time with that troop yourself, didn't you, Poppy?" he said. "And even finished up marrying one of them." Now that he had Cat to fuss over, he no longer minded that Roger had failed to capture this beautiful young girl to be his wife.

"So, you don't object to me talking to your servants then?" asked Poppy. And Barnaby escorted Poppy down to the kitchens himself and helped her pump his staff for information. But nothing useful was forthcoming. None of them could think of anyone they knew who was a good cook and who was looking for a job.

"Well," said Roger, "you could try visiting some of the better inns and seeing if they've got any decent kitchen staff going spare." And Poppy sighed and concluded that this was her only alternative. When morning came, she and Dis would traipse around the town together.

But, unfortunately, when morning did come, Dis remained in her bed and when Poppy was called up to visit her by one of the servants, she found her aunt lying flat on her mattress with such a stiff back that she couldn't move.

"I knew this would happen," she complained, "what with all that horse-riding. You don't seem to appreciate just how old I'm getting." And Poppy was forced to conclude – rather bad-temperedly – that she would have to search the town herself.

Barnaby and Roger had gone down to the quay on business, otherwise they would doubtless have insisted that Poppy take a maid with her, but it was a lovely day and Poppy, scenting a whiff of freedom, set off on her own. After all, she was a grown-up, married woman.

She had no luck at the Silver Bear and none at the Orc and Elf either. She wondered what inn to visit next when she suddenly thought of the Mithril Crown. It wasn't exactly respectable but she remembered a lot of jolly and slightly riotous evenings spent there with Roger and his friends and, in the end, decided to give it a visit for old times' sake.

By the time she got there, she was hot and hungry and so she sat down in one of the private booths off the tap-room to take some refreshments first. The owner, recognising her, politely congratulated her on her marriage and then bustled off to fetch her order.

As she sat there, idly looking around her and thinking the place looked a lot more scruffy in daylight than by candle-light, she suddenly heard a bit of a to-do coming from the neighbouring bar. Out of curiosity, she walked across the room and peered around the half-open door.

A group of customers, looking rather the worse for wear, were man-handling one of the serving wenches. She was trying to carry some mugs of beer to their table and one of them had seized her by the waist and, fumbling with her bodice, was dragging her down upon his lap. As he tried to kiss her, his friends just laughed uproariously but the girl was cursing and struggled to get free. Poppy peered into the room, just in time to see her whack her assaulter around the face with a mug that split his lip. The atmosphere got nasty then. A couple of the men seized her by the shoulders whilst the injured man tried to back-hand her. She managed to duck away so that his knuckles just grazed her cheek but this only infuriated him further. Poppy could see that the girl was in trouble and, glancing around the room quickly, she could find neither the landlord nor any of the other staff.

And so, Poppy, Thorin's daughter, strode steadfastly into the room and said in a loud and haughty voice: "Goodness! What on earth is going on here?" The men stopped in their tracks, then turned to see a well-dressed young woman who carried her head at an arrogant and assured slant, staring down her nose at them, her eyes flashing fiercely. They suddenly felt like the scum of the earth. A couple dragged their caps from their heads and dipped them in a bow. She noticed that one looked very embarrassed and tugged his forelock. But the one with the split lip was not so easily cowed.

"This is nothing to do with you, missy," he said. "A tap room ain't no place for a fine young lady like yourself. I'd get back to your private dining if I was you." And he gripped the girl more tightly.

For the first time, Poppy looked at his prisoner and her eyes widened. She then looked back to her captor and took a step forward. "If you don't let go of this poor young woman," she said, in a low and threatening voice, "I think you will be sorry."

The man was a little shaken by her tone but then laughed at her whilst his friends stood fascinated at the exchange. He pulled the girl against him and growled, "Make me sorry, then."

Poppy looked at the girl and the girl looked back at her. Then Poppy gave a slight nod, the girl elbowed the man, hard, in his soft beer-belly and, as he grunted and slackened his grip, Poppy whipped the captive out of his grasp and kneed him between the legs. That was a trick her father had taught her. The bully bent over double and then sagged to the floor, unable to catch his breath. His friends stared in amazement and then some of them began to laugh.

"I bet that 'urt, Jack," sniggered the one who had tugged his forelock. "She said she'd make you sorry." But Jack was in too much pain to get up from the floor.

Poppy pulled the girl into the other room and into the secluded booth, just as mine host was serving a tray of food.

"What sort of inn are you running here?" she snapped at him. "I've just had to rescue this member of your staff from a most unsavoury group – and with no-one around to help her." The landlord looked startled and mumbled his apologies.

"I want her to sit here with me for a while," she continued, "until she gets over the shock." And then she haughtily shooed him away.

The two young women stared at each other for a few moments. Then, "Mary!" Poppy shrieked and they fell into each other's arms.

.o00o.

Pt II

"Oh, Poppy," exclaimed Mary. "I thought I would never see you again! What happened to you that night? Did you run off with that handsome dwarf?"

"Yes," giggled Poppy. "But that handsome dwarf actually ran off with me. He was my father who came to rescue me from that awful place."

"No!" said Mary. "But I thought you were half-elven!"

"And the other half is dwarf," laughed Poppy. But then she looked serious and, leaning over the table, held onto Mary's hand. "I cried all the way home on my father's shoulder that night. I wished that he could have saved you too."

Mary squeezed her hand and the tears came to her own eyes. "Really?" she said softly. "No-one's ever cared what happened to me before."

They sat there, holding hands for some time, remembering the house of ill repute where both of them had been trapped five years earlier. "But, you've escaped now," said Poppy at last. "You're here in the Mithril Crown."

"They threw me out in the end," shrugged Mary. "I grew too old. And, all I've done is exchange one form of slavery for another."

And, in that moment, Poppy knew what she would do. She would save Mary where her father had failed. "Can you cook?" she asked.

.o00o.

The landlord was not best pleased when Mary packed her bags on the spot and left without handing in her notice but there was nothing he could do. An hour later, the two girls were back in Barnaby Waller's house and Mary was looking around herself in awe. "For goodness' sake," she whispered to Poppy, "don't tell anyone about my past. Say I'm an old friend or something. If your husband finds out, I shall be out on the streets again."

Poppy gave her a hug. "Don't worry," she said, "I always know the right things to say. Let's go and have a practice run on my aunt."

Dis was out of bed by now and the painful stiffness in her back had worn off. Poppy dragged Mary into the sitting-room. "Aunt Dis," she said excitedly, "this is an old friend, Mary, and she's going to be my new cook." And she babbled on about meeting her in the town and how Mary needed a job and was, coincidentally, a superb cook and how wonderful it would be to have a friend with her up at the outpost. Much of what she said was true and Dis swallowed the story whole.

She looked the girl up and down and decided she was a mixture of pros and cons. She was much too young and pretty, of course, for the outpost, but, at the same time, it would be lovely for Poppy to have a friend to keep her company. Dis had been a bit worried about Poppy's restlessness since her parents' departure. And if the girl could cook…. Well, why not, she thought? At least the girl could have a trial run. And she looked respectable enough, dressed as she was in a nicely pressed cotton frock. Well-spoken, too. And, such a lovely smile.

And so, Dis was the first to be taken in. And, before the end of it all, Mary would have taken in everyone.

It wasn't Mary's fault, really. She had been corrupted at a very young age and knew only one way to behave. People used people. She had learned that you only survive in life if you manipulate women and seduce men. It never occurred to Poppy that, when she and Mary had first met in the market place, that Mary had manipulated her and had lured her to the gaming house so that she could find favour with Mr Jennings. And, until Poppy had escaped, Mr Jennings had promised Mary all sorts of rewards for finding Poppy and bringing her back to his house. She had been as furious as Mr Jennings when the dwarf and the girl had disappeared and, even though her master had been well-paid for Poppy, she saw not a penny because he had had a whole string of plans for Poppy that were now not going to be fulfilled.

"So, does your father live with you and your husband?" Mary had asked at the Mithril Crown, already plotting her revenge on the dwarf.

Poppy hesitated. "No, my mother and father have – left – Ered Luin. My parents were a great support and that's why I'm so hopeless without them and need a cook-cum-housekeeper so that I can hold parties." She described her beautiful new home and the outpost. "I'm a bit lonely up there and you must have learned so much about cooking and entertaining and stuff in Mr Jennings' house that you'll make the perfect person to help me."

Mary nodded enthusiastically. Yes, she knew a lot about cooking and "stuff", she thought to herself, and it seemed a much better bet than the Mithril Crown. And so, later that day, they waved the Waller family goodbye and set off for Poppy's home up in the foothills of the Blue Mountains.

Their arrival at the outpost created quite a stir. Poppy took Mary to the farmhouse straight away to meet her elven friends and the half dozen of them that were there fluttered around the two girls and tried not to show too obviously how very attractive they were finding Poppy's red-headed friend. Poppy grinned to herself. It was just as well she wasn't the jealous type. She had her man and didn't mind that she seemed to have lost her two young followers, Brand and Meldreth, to Mary. All their longing glances were now fixed on the new girl and she chuckled as she watched them shyly fussing around her and elbowing each other discreetly out the way.

It was a bit harder to see her life-long friends, Rostrel, Borondin and Durandan flutter around Mary too but she was glad to bring a little bit of excitement into their lives. The only one who seemed immune to her charms was Lithin but he only ever had eyes for his wife, Challis. Poppy sent a look to Lithin across the dining-table and they both communicated their amusement. Yes, introductions had gone off very successfully so far, she thought.

Then they returned to the manor where they found Dis hobbling around with a very painful back again after the long ride. "Sit down," Mary ordered her sternly. "We can't have the king-pin of this family collapsing on us, can we?" And she stood behind her and expertly massaged her shoulders and spine.

"That's wonderful," murmured Dis. "Where did you learn to do this?"

Mary grinned at Poppy over Dis' head. "Oh, here and there," she said.

But Dis was thrilled. Not only did Mary massage away her aches and pains but, for the first time in her life, someone was making a fuss of her and it was a lovely feeling that this pretty young woman was taking care of her when she had spent all her life taking care of others.

"Now," said Mary when she had finished, "you're to sit with your feet up for the rest of the evening and we shall look after you." And Dis did as she was told and thoroughly enjoyed the respite.

Mary and Poppy went off to the kitchen together to make a meal and Poppy enjoyed doing this for the first time ever. Mary was so efficient and such entertaining company that the time passed in a flash. As she sat in her easy chair, Dis could hear their peals of laughter and smiled to herself. Lostwithiel should be pleased, she thought.

"So, where is this husband of yours, then?" asked Mary.

"Out on a long patrol," grimaced Poppy. "He won't be back until late this evening when you'll get a chance to meet him. The following morning, Dis will go home and we'll both help out at the farmhouse. I'm sure the rest of the troop will be pleased to meet you."

Mary grinned. "What a good-looking bunch of men," she said. "I've never had much to do with elves – I never saw a single one at Mr Jennings' house – too chaste for a whore-house, you know - and it was really good fun today to be such a centre of attention." And they both looked at each other and roared with laughter.

"Tell me about your husband," asked Mary curiously as they peeled the vegetables. "Is he as good-looking as the rest of them?"

"Well," said Poppy, "I might be biased but I reckon he's the best-looking of the lot."

"And is he good in bed?" asked Mary cheekily.

"Mary!" gasped Poppy blushing. This was not the sort of conversation she was used to having, she thought. But, there again, she had never had a girl-friend before and perhaps this was what girl-friends talked about.

Then, "Yes," she said, looking bashfully across the table. "He is good and we've learned a lot together."

"So, you don't want me to train him up for you?" Mary laughed.

"Oh," spluttered Poppy, "you're so naughty!" And she didn't realise just how right she was.

.o00o.

Lostwithiel was really pleased to meet Mary. She seemed to be a very sweet young woman and Poppy appeared to be very happy that she had not only found a cook but a friend. Mary served up a most delicious meal – "It was a team effort," she said – and he insisted that she joined the rest of them at the dining table.

"You're obviously more than a servant to Poppy," he smiled.

The four of them chattered away happily together and Lostwithiel felt as though Mary's presence had resolved a whole load of problems. She was clever and funny and polite and Poppy seemed to glow in her presence. The elf felt a weight lifting from his shoulders.

"She's nice," he said to Poppy in bed later. "How did you first meet her?"

"Oh," said Poppy vaguely, "she was one of Roger's crowd. I always liked her and so I was really pleased when I bumped into her in the Grey Havens."

"Did your parents know her?" he asked.

"Not my mother," she responded truthfully. "But my father met her once. He thought she was pretty and wanted to bring her back to the forge as a companion for me….But her employer wouldn't let her go."

"That's a pity," Lostwithiel said. He thought her pretty too – pretty enough to distract those two young elves at the farmhouse and stop them ogling his wife, he imagined. And he rolled over on top of Poppy and stared at her.

"What are you doing?" she giggled.

"Ogling you," he grinned.

"Well," she said coyly, "if that's all you're going to do, I must as well go to sleep." And she closed her eyes.

"Who said that's all I'm going to do?" he whispered huskily in her ear. And then he did a bit more than ogle her for the next hour.

.o00o.

Pt III

The next morning, Poppy leaped out of bed leaving her husband asleep and hurried down to join Dis and Mary for breakfast. Then the two girls said goodbye to Dis: "I'm sure you'll look after her," smiled the dwarf woman to Mary. "Now, have a good time together and don't get into any mischief!" And off she rode, her back feeling better than it had done in a long time.

"Come on," laughed Mary. "Let's get up to a bit of mischief at the farmhouse with those handsome elves." And off they went gleefully together.

It wasn't so difficult, thought Mary, to lead Meldreth and Brand astray, even though elves were supposed to be such chaste creatures. They must be gasping, she grinned to herself, after all those hundreds of years.

To her amusement, she found that they had both volunteered for kitchen duty on the assumption that she and Poppy would be up there to help them. They all sat around the kitchen table peeling vegetables and laughing and talking together, whilst Mary gave the young elf lords sizzling looks from under her long eyelashes.

When she thought their tongues were hanging out far enough and that their necks were pink enough and that their hands shook enough when she touched them as she passed them a potato, Mary finally got up and went to the pantry to find ingredients for the dessert. She had only been there for a few minutes when Meldreth suddenly appeared.

"Can I help?" he asked, edging into the pantry which was little more than a large cupboard. He was standing very close to her and she lifted her pretty face up to his.

"You can help yourself to a kiss if you really want to," she said.

And, slightly clumsily, he eagerly took her up on her offer.

More enthusiasm than skill, she thought and, after a few moments, she pushed him away. "Behind the barn after lunch," she whispered and returned to the kitchen with a provocative swish of her skirts.

After lunch, Mary suggested to Poppy that she took Lostwithiel for a little "rest" before he set off on night patrol. Poppy grinned gratefully and disappeared off with her husband. Then she organised Brand to do the washing up (that should keep him busy for a bit, she thought) and then she sent Meldreth off to clear away the rubbish and the scraps.

Soon after, she also vacated the kitchen and disappeared off behind the barn. Meldreth had taken the hint and followed her shortly. She pulled him to her and, before long, it was getting a bit steamy in that secluded part of the outpost.

But, Mary was surprised when Meldreth pulled away. "I can't," he gasped.

"You can't do what?" she asked.

"This," he replied. "I must remain chaste."

"Oh," she said softly, "did they tell you that you mustn't lie with a woman?"

"That's right," he said, pleased that she understood.

"Well," said Mary, in a throaty whisper, pulling him towards her again, "Who said anything about you lying with me? I was thinking of standing up." And she reached for his breeches. At which point, Meldreth decided that following the letter of the law was good enough and collapsed with a groan into her arms.

.o00o.

The next day, it was Brand who met Mary behind the barn. He had a charming, boyish face and Mary thought him rather sweet. Like Meldreth, however, he also drew back when things began to get too uncomfortable for him.

"I suppose they told you that you had to remain a virgin?" she said. And he nodded rather glumly. Mary reached up and stroked his golden hair. "You're not supposed to be intimate with a woman, is that it?" she said. And he nodded again. Slowly, she unbuttoned his shirt and, reaching inside, gently caressed him. "Is that being intimate, would you say?" she asked.

"Umm, no, I suppose not," he answered.

"Or that?" she asked. "Or that?" And Brand had to admit that he supposed that what she was doing wasn't exactly what he would define as intimacy.

Half an hour later, as Mary slipped away from the back of the barn, leaving Brand behind her in an exhausted heap on the grass, she felt that the young elf could in all honesty still stand up and protest, if anyone should ask: "I have not had intimate relations with that woman!"

.o00o.

A shower of presents descended upon Mary following each incident behind the barn. First, it was flowers, then silver jewellery and then gold jewellery, as the two young elves vied with each other for her favour. Mary accepted each item graciously and then carefully put them away in a box in her bedroom. One day, she would have enough to start a life of her own. She would disappear off to another city – Dale, perhaps, or even distant Minas Tirith where no-one knew her – and she would set herself up in some kind of respectable business, find herself a handsome man of Gondor and then – live happily ever after, she supposed.

But, easing pieces of jewellery out of these two elf lords was taking too much time. She needed to speed things up a bit. And she turned her attentions on Lostwithiel. Did she have a conscience? Mary decided that she couldn't afford one. Poppy had been so kind to her, had taken her in and given her both a job and her friendship…..But Poppy had everything and life was unfair. Perhaps the girl needed to learn that lesson. And Mary felt a twinge of jealousy. Tomorrow morning, she decided, she would start on the husband.

.o00o.

Pt IV

The next morning, Lostwithiel had been on a night patrol and was still in bed. The two young women were having breakfast in the kitchen and Poppy was preparing to go up to the farmhouse.

"Do you mind if I stay here?" asked Mary. "I want to work on something a bit more elaborate than usual for our evening meal. I'm practising for when we start holding these dinner parties. I can join you later."

Poppy was quite excited at the thought of a practice run and trotted off happily to join the elves in their kitchen. Mary passed her time doing her preparation work as she had promised, but as noon drew nearer – the time when Lostwithiel usually got up – she made a mug of tea and, placing it on a small and elegant silver tray, she took it up to the bedroom.

She tapped only lightly on the door and then she walked in. It had been a warm night and Lostwithiel lay sprawled asleep and naked on the bed, his coverlets in disarray and his sheet down to his knees.

"Good morning," said Mary softly and, taking the tray to the little table by the window, she placed it on there, pulled back the curtains and turned around, standing quietly with her hands folded across the front of her apron.

At the sound of her voice, a startled Lostwithiel had reacted with lightning speed and, as she swept past him, he had grabbed the sheet and pulled it up to his chest. Not fast enough, though, grinned Mary to herself. He leaned on an elbow, blinking dazedly at her whilst the colour rose in his cheeks.

"Will there be anything else, sir?" she asked politely. "Your wife suggested that I bring you up a cup of tea around noon." Of course, she hadn't, but she doubted that he would check.

"Umm, no, thank you, Mary…..That's all…..You can go now." And she nodded her head and walked briskly from the room.

Lostwithiel collapsed back on his pillow. And then he had to laugh. How embarrassing – but she really didn't seem too flustered – perhaps she hadn't seen anything. He really must get used to having a female servant in the house and take more precautions. And then he remembered that time long ago when he had swept into Thorin and Tauriel's room with breakfast on a tray. He had been younger and cheekier then and perhaps this had been some kind of just punishment. And he laughed once more. Poppy would find it funny too, he thought, when he told her later.

He looked out at the day and it was clear and bright. The cup was steaming on the tray and he got out of bed and stretched. Then, sauntering to the window, he picked up the drink and gazed down the valley at the beautiful view.

Mary's timing was perfect. Just as he raised the mug to his lips, she knocked quietly again and came into the room carrying a plate of toast. The elf swung around, holding the tea in one hand and the tray in the other which he had swiftly positioned over the embarrassing bits. But Mary stood there calmly, for all the world as if he were fully clothed, and held the plate out to him. "I thought you'd like some toast," she said.

Lostwithiel looked helplessly from mug to tray. He had nearly held out the tray in an automatic reflex but had stopped himself in time. Sensibly, he put down the tea on the table and took the plate from her.

"Er, thank you," he said.

And then she stood, her hands folded once more, waiting for instructions. Her eyes seemed to be staring at his broad, smooth chest; and then they travelled slowly down to the tray. Lostwithiel felt compelled to look down at the tray too and adjusted its position slightly. Then he raised his eyes back to hers and they seemed to lock in a truly uncomfortable way.

"Umm, that's all, Mary," he said. "That was very kind of you. It looks - umm – very nice." And Mary gave him a mysterious, little smile and left the room. She had seen enough.

Lostwithiel let out his breath in a rush. Well, how embarrassing was THAT?! And he threw on his uniform before she decided to return for the third time.

When he finally went downstairs, she had already left for the farmhouse and, when he joined them all for lunch, her manner was perfectly normal. The special evening meal that she had prepared for them at the manor house was quite spectacular, he thought, and she seemed completely at ease with them both. In the end, Lostwithiel relaxed too. But, when he was in bed with Poppy that night, the elf somehow couldn't bring himself to tell her about the embarrassing moments of that day.

.o00o.

The week passed pleasantly enough for Lostwithiel although not so pleasantly for Meldreth and Brand who were getting more heated in their competition for Mary's attention. The time that each of them spent with her behind the barn was getting more intense and their presents were becoming more valuable. And yet neither of them had thought of a betrothal. She just wasn't the sort of girl you married, they concluded. Sadly, Mary understood their thoughts – and that was why she was going to screw out of them as much as she could whilst she had the opportunity.

And then, Lostwithiel had night patrol again. He did consider asking Poppy to stay in the house and not go to the farmhouse the following morning but he could think of no valid reason to give her. It just seemed too late to tell her about what had happened the previous week and he was sure she would laugh at him. He didn't even know that Mary would stay behind again but he had a strong suspicion that she would. He was beginning to feel uneasy about her presence in the house but, until he had more concrete objections, he felt there was nothing he could do about it. And, anyway, perhaps it was all his imaginings.

But, just to be sure that he wasn't caught out again, Lostwithiel donned his nightgown as soon as Poppy vacated their bed that morning, and pulled the sheet right up to his chin. And then he fell into a restless sleep.

But, noon came and went without Mary making an appearance. The elf lord got dressed quickly, watching the door anxiously, in case it suddenly opened. Perhaps she had gone with Poppy, he thought. But when he went down for breakfast in his breeches and shirt, there she was, making him breakfast quietly and efficiently in the kitchen.

"Good morning!" she said cheerfully. "What would you like to eat?"

"Not a lot," he said. But, as he sat down at the big kitchen table he couldn't help but wince and let out a small groan. Immediately, she was by his side, all concern, asking him if he were in pain. She already knew the problem because Poppy had told her before she left, but it suited her to express ignorance.

"We had a bit of a run-in with a band of orcs last night," he said.

"And you're injured!" she cried, showing womanly concern. "What did they do to you?"

It was nice to be fussed and Lostwithiel put on his brave face. "Oh, it's nothing much," he said. "Just a few bruises where one of them battered me about the shoulders with a club and a cut on the leg from a sword thrust. The lads saw to it before I came home."

"You might have been killed!" she gasped. "And then what would Poppy have done without you?"

She placed a bowl of creamy porridge laced with honey on the table. "I shall sit here and watch you eat it all up," she said. "You need to build up your strength." But he only managed to get halfway through it because the wound on his leg was aching and he felt a bit sick.

Mary gave him an observant look as he pushed the bowl away. "That wound's hurting isn't it?" she pronounced.

"How did you know?" he asked wanly.

"Because I worked for a time with a physician in the Grey Havens and I tended lots of wounds. Now let me see it."

Ah, he thought, almost with a sigh of relief. She's a nurse. No wonder she isn't shocked by the sight of a naked man. And he felt slightly more comfortable with her.

"So, which leg and where?" she asked, as she knelt in front of him.

"Umm, the right one…..at the top."

"Then, just slip off your breeches," she said.

When he hesitated, she laughed and said in a voice that made him feel rather silly: "I have seen men in their underpants before, you know." And so, he stood and slipped them off.

The wound was right at the top of his inner thigh and, although he tried, Lostwithiel couldn't help but blush as she gently stripped away the bandage that Lithin had put on earlier. Mary chuckled and, as she looked up at him, her eyes danced. "You're a lucky man," she said. "Or, rather, should I say that Poppy is a lucky woman? Any higher…" And he had to grin back. "I don't think it needs stitching," she said. And then she went to get a bowl of warm water, some fresh bandages and a salve.

As she made her preparations, Mary thought to herself that she seldom told outright lies because then you weren't caught out. In Mr Jennings' house, the occasional vicious fight would sometimes break out between a customer and the bruisers who were there to sort out any problems. If someone was injured, then she had become involved in the cleaning up because Mr Jennings, very wisely, refused to involve physicians or the elven guard. Over the years, she had become quite skilled.

She knelt again to tend to his leg whilst Lostwithiel shut his eyes and repeated to himself, as her cool fingers rubbed the salve gently into his skin: "She's only a nurse – she's only a nurse - she's seen it all before…." It helped a bit.

He had to admit that, when she had finished, he felt a lot more comfortable and he reached for his breeches. "I haven't finished yet," she said severely. "Sit up straight in your chair and undo your shirt buttons."

Very reluctantly, he did so, and she pulled his shirt down from his bruised shoulders and began a slow massage, just as she had done for Dis. He didn't enjoy it. It was arousing and he wanted to tell her to stop but it seemed churlish and rude. And so, there he sat in his kitchen, half-stripped of his clothes whilst Mary's fingers did their busy, clever work.

After a while, her fingers began to slow and he felt his breathing slow along with them until it was coming in heavy pants. Then Mary leaned forward and whispered throatily in his ear, her fingers still working at his shoulders: "I wonder what Poppy would think if she decided to come home at this very moment," she murmured, "and found us together like this in the kitchen – you, half-naked - me, running my hands all along your back?" Lostwithiel's breathing almost came to a complete halt as he considered this possibility with horror and he felt frozen to his chair.

"I wonder," Mary continued, "if she would think that something naughty was going on between us? Of course, as her friend, and feeling weighed down by guilt, I would have to tell her the truth."

"What truth?" whispered Lostwithiel.

"Oh, that you had developed a passion for me and that I was unable to resist because I was afraid that I would lose my job if I said 'no'."

Lostwithiel turned in his chair and flung off her hands. "Why would you do that?" he gasped.

Mary looked around the beautiful kitchen. "Because you have so much and I have so little. Perhaps you might consider making things just a little more equal."

"Blackmail!" he snarled harshly. "And what's to stop me from going to Poppy right now, this very minute, and telling her what you're up to? She's my wife. She loves me. She'll believe me."

Mary leaned back and looked mockingly at him. "Will she really?" she asked. "What? Even when I tell her about the special intimate mark you have on your backside – the mark I noticed when we were making mad, passionate love?"

"What mark?" he stuttered. But he knew already and he knew when she had seen it.

"That strawberry mark in the shape of a heart. Ahhh! So romantic," she sighed.

Lostwithiel leaped to his feet and pulled on his breeches. "I want you to get out of this house now," he hissed.

"Not unless I'm paid to go," she said calmly. "Otherwise I shall go up to the farmhouse and break down on my dear friend's shoulder and confess all to her."

Lostwithiel looked steadily at Mary for a few moments. They were both playing for high stakes. In the end, the elf lord decided to be brave and place his trust in the love that existed between him and Poppy. Without a word, he buttoned his shirt and pulled on his boots then marched out of the front door.

He heard Mary's laughter echoing behind him. "She won't believe you," she called after him.

With a set face, he walked determinedly towards the farmhouse. He was afraid that she wouldn't believe him either.

Poppy was alone in the kitchen and was startled by his appearance and the grim look on his face.

"Come to the office," he said. "I've got something to tell you." And he seized her by the hand and half-dragged her down the corridor. Poppy began to feel quite frightened. He sat her on the bed and took her face in his hands. And then he explained as carefully as possible all the things that had been happening between him and Mary this past week or so.

Poppy looked horrified and he scanned her face carefully, looking for signs that she believed him.

"She's my friend," Poppy said slowly. And, suddenly, Lostwithiel sensed that she thought he was lying to save his own skin. She would leave him, he knew it, and he would be left with a broken heart. His face crumpled in distress and he seized her by the shoulders. He would MAKE her believe him. But, before he could say another word, he heard the sound of yelling and the clash of metal on metal from out in the yard. They both dashed to the window. It was Meldreth and Brand – and they were at each other's throats, their swords unsheathed.

"Stop!" yelled Lostwithiel through the window. "It's an order." But when they ignored him, he seized his sword which was propped up in the corner, leaped through the window and charged between them. Poppy cried out in fear, sure that the two of them would run her husband through, but, with a scrape of steel, the elf lord sent the other two swords spinning from Brand and Meldreth's hands.

This did not stop them, however. Brand flung himself at Meldreth and knocked him to the ground, his hands at the other's throat. "I'll kill you!" he yelled. But Meldreth struggled free, rolled to his feet and kicked Brand viciously in the ribs. "Not if I kill you first," he retaliated. That was the last thing he said before Lostwithiel flattened him with a smart uppercut and, when Brand leaped rather ineffectually upon his back, his captain threw him over his head and delivered him a similar felling blow as he leaped back upon his feet to confront him.

Poppy stood there in awe, her hands clasped to her breast. "My hero," she breathed.

Lithin and Rostrel came running then. "Help me get these idiots to the kitchen," he grunted.

Propped up on kitchen chairs, the two young elves were quickly brought to with a jug of water over their heads. They gasped and shook the water from their hair and would have been all ready for another round if Lithin and Rostrel had not pinioned them firmly in their place.

"Explain!" snapped Lostwithiel, but Poppy, standing quietly in the corner, already knew.

"You're fighting over Mary, aren't you?" she said, stepping forward. The two didn't answer but glared at each other. "She doesn't want either of you," Poppy said gently.

"Yes, she does, she wants me," shouted Brand. "She loves me!"

"No, she doesn't," retorted Meldreth, "she loves me. And she's proved that on countless occasions behind the barn."

Brand nearly broke free from Lithin in his fury. "She meets ME behind the barn. Stop lying, Meldreth," he screamed.

Poppy laid a calming hand on each of their shoulders. "Mary has tricked both of you, I'm afraid," she said. "How many presents have you given her, I wonder." And then their stupidity came home to them in a blinding flash and they both began to squirm with embarrassment at their naivety.

"Go to your rooms," ordered Lostwithiel. "I'll speak to you both later." And then he took Poppy by the arm and hurried her back down to the house.

"I believe you," said Poppy as they approached the manor.

"I know," said the elf.

But when they got back to the house, Mary had gone and so had one of the horses and there were no presents of any kind to be found.

"She knew she had lost," said Lostwithiel, "the minute I walked out the door."

Then he lifted Poppy in his arms and carried her up the wide staircase to their bedroom. There, he gently undressed them both and got into bed with her. She buried her head in his shoulder and he stroked her hair. "Tell me about you and Mary," he said.

And she told him the whole story.

Lostwithiel was shocked over what had nearly happened to Poppy in Mr Jennings' house when she had been only 13.

"I wish you had told me a long time ago," he said.

"I thought she was my friend," she whispered. "I wanted to save her." And then she wept.

Lostwithiel held her tightly in his arms. "Your father was right," he said. "You can't save everyone. It was too late for Mary."

"I believed what you told me right from the beginning," she finally said, "because I know you and I love you. But it meant coming to terms with what Mary was and I didn't want to believe that."

"I know, I know," he whispered. "And now I want you to forget about her and think just about us."

And Lostwithiel made love to her with exquisite care and tenderness. But, even so, Poppy found it difficult to get over Mary's betrayal.

.o00o.

Nest story: Poppy finally gets to hold that dinner-party!


	32. Chapter 32 His Daughter Holds a Party

And so we get to hear yet another story about how Poppy and Lostwithiel cope up at the outpost now that Thorin and Tauriel have left them. Mary's betrayal in last week's story has had a bit of a traumatic effect on Poppy. Will she manage to shake off her gloom before it damages her marriage to Lostwithiel?

.o00o.

THORIN'S DAUGHTER HOLDS A PARTY

Lostwithiel was very concerned about his wife. He had waited for her to cheer up after Mary had let her down so badly, but it just wasn't happening.

She no longer leaped out of bed in the morning to help the elves up at the outpost. When he left for duty himself, she was usually still in bed. And, if he came back to check on her mid-day, she was either slouching around in a scruffy robe, her hair still unbrushed, or she wasn't up at all. And when he took her a cup of tea to help her along, she just complained to him that there was nothing to get up for.

In the evening, when he came home, no food had been prepared and he either had to scrabble around in the pantry looking for something cold like bread and cheese or he had to throw a quick meal together himself. And this was a bit wearying after a long, hard day.

In bed, at night, when he snuggled up to her, she didn't resist but she showed little interest or enthusiasm; and Lostwithiel discovered that it wasn't much fun making love to a sack of inert potatoes, however beautiful.

"My best tip," Thorin had said to him, in a dwarf to elf conversation on the night before he had got married, "is to talk to them. They like that. Don't let the sun go down without talking any problems through."

"Did you always do that, then?" asked the elf lord who was listening very intently to all this grown-up advice.

"No," growled Thorin, taking another swig from his cup of wine. "No, I didn't." He then stared broodingly into the middle distance and Lostwithiel had to be content with that.

So, now he tried to talk to Poppy.

"Is there anything wrong?" he asked one night, kissing her gently.

"No," she said. And that's as far as he got with her. Just like her father, he thought.

Not long after, Dis came to stay for a few days and Lostwithiel managed to corner her.

"We're in trouble, Dis," he said, "and I need your help."

The dwarf woman looked quite pleased that he had consulted her and settled into a chair for a comfortable coze. She already knew about Mary's treachery – "I thought that girl would cause trouble," she had said, with a bit of hindsight – but now she listened carefully to the elf's explanation of what had happened to her niece since Mary had left.

"She needs something to distract her, something to occupy her mind."

"I know," said Lostwithiel. "This is just the sort of conversation I had with Thorin when I told him why I was so anxious about marrying Poppy and bringing her up to the outpost."

"Are you thinking about having a baby yet?" asked Dis. "That would keep her busy."

"No," said Lostwithiel, pulling a face. "She's still a child herself. Can you imagine her with a baby?" And Dis had to admit that she couldn't.

"She needs to instigate those dinner parties," he said. "But, with Mary gone, I don't see how we can get them off the ground." Then he paused…..for a long time…and sat looking at Dis.

"Oh, no," she said, catching on to the meaning of his silence. "Don't ask me."

"But you're the only one, Dis, who can do it – at least for the moment. Even six months would give us some time to find another trained cook."

At last, with a loud sigh, Dis agreed that she would work for six months at the manor house to plan for the dinner parties, go with Poppy into the Grey Havens to choose a number of new evening dresses and then sketch out all the things that needed to be done. After that, they would try out a few dinners. And, by then, perhaps a proper cook would have been found. Dis then set off back home to do some packing, leaving Lostwithiel to explain their plan of action to Poppy.

.o00o.

"You've done WHAT?" exclaimed Poppy, sitting straight up in bed.

"Umm…..asked Dis to stay for six months?" replied the elf, looking a bit taken aback by his wife's response.

"How COULD you, 'Thiel?" she cried. "What made you think I could bear having my interfering aunt here every day for six months, nagging me and telling me off and trying to run my life? I thought I had escaped all that after getting married to you."

Lostwithiel ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. "What have I done, Poppy? I thought you'd be pleased. I had to work really hard on her. She didn't want to stay, you know."

"I bet she didn't," snapped Poppy spitefully. "Her own life's so empty that she only gets pleasure from messing around in mine."

For the first time ever, the elf lord lost his temper with her. He knew she could be unkind and thoughtless and had married her with his eyes wide open. But, now she was being downright cruel.

He took her by her shoulders and, holding her in a firm grip, spoke to her in icy tones as if he were telling off one of his men. "You're so spoiled, Poppy! I don't want to hear you ever talk like that about your aunt again. She is a really good woman who has given up her life to help look after your family and I want to see you show some gratitude." And then, pushing her from him, he got up out of the bed and left the room as if he couldn't bear to look at her any longer.

Poppy sat there, wide-eyed and shocked. She had lost her mother, her father and Rose. Arion hardly bothered to speak to her any more. And now it looked as though she were losing the man she loved too. Hurriedly, she threw a robe around her shoulders and went in search of him.

Lostwithiel was down in the kitchen, shaking. He was trying to make himself a cup of tea to calm himself. He loved Poppy. He had never shouted at her before, no matter what she had said, no matter what silly scrape she had got herself into – always he had tried to remain calm. But, suddenly he had snapped. He was trying to help but everything he did was wrong and he was getting a bit fed up with her little tantrums and her unkindnesses. He sipped his tea but his hand still trembled.

Poppy suddenly appeared behind him in the doorway. He knew she was there – he always sensed her presence – but he didn't turn around. She knew he knew and when he didn't turn towards her and take her in his arms and kiss her, she didn't know what to do. In the end, she came up behind him and slid her arms around his waist, feeling him tense. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

But, this time, "sorry" wasn't enough. It was a sort of trick phrase she had learned as a child to defuse the situation – to get her way - and, most of the time, she didn't mean it. He pulled away from her. "I'm tired with all this," he said, gesturing vaguely. "I've got to get up early tomorrow. I'll sleep in the guest bedroom." And he walked out of the kitchen, carrying his cup of tea. And he hadn't looked at her once.

Poppy felt frightened. She went back to her room, got into bed and curled up into a ball, wondering what to do. She started to weep.

"Don't let the sun go down on any problem," her father had told her the night before she got married. "Talk about it." And so, she sat up, gave a big sniff, knuckled the tears out of her eyes and then marched off to the guest bedroom.

.o00o.

Pt II

"Are you awake, 'Thiel?" she whispered into the darkness; but there was no response. She took off her nightgown and climbed cautiously under the sheets, but he lay with his back to her and didn't move. Was he asleep?

No, he wasn't asleep but he stubbornly refused to let her win this round. He felt her cold, little body pressing up to his back, searching for warmth and comfort and then a slender arm slipped around him. He nearly gave in at that point but he gritted his teeth and told himself to go to sleep.

An hour later, he was still trying. He felt uncomfortable and his arm had gone numb but he wanted to give her no indication that he was awake; and so he refused to turn over and find a more comfortable position. In the end, he heard her breathing slow down and deepen and he knew that Poppy was asleep at last. Then he could relax and he eventually fell asleep too.

In the night, he naturally turned towards her and she nestled her tousled head against his smooth, hairless chest and sighed in her sleep. They were both awoken at dawn by the night watch tapping gently on their windows with a long pole and then they heard the crunch of gravel as he went to rouse the other elves at the farmhouse. They lay in silence. The tears came then and he felt their wetness upon his breast. He wanted to kiss them away and make love to her before he went on duty. Instead, he rolled away from her, got up and reached for his uniform.

She watched him dress. Perhaps, she thought, she didn't deserve something so beautiful. She had brought this on herself and didn't know where to start to make things better. Could she change? Be a nicer person? Her brother had no time for her because of what she was and she was sure that her parents had always loved Arion and Rose more, just because – well – because they were more loveable. Rose loved her, but Rose wasn't here. And Dis just found her a nuisance. The male sex lusted after her, but that wasn't love. Did 'Thiel just lust after her? She no longer knew.

Her husband stood at the door. "I won't be back until early evening," he said a bit gruffly. And then he was gone.

Poppy wept into her pillow. Then she lay there for a bit, feeling extremely sorry for herself. But, after that, Poppy, Thorin's daughter, got out of bed with a determined look upon her face and decided to do something about her life.

.o00o.

It was a very hard day for Lostwithiel on patrol. He couldn't concentrate and it was lucky that nothing of significance happened because he was so distracted by thoughts about his wife. Lithin noticed how he sat apart from the rest of them when they stopped for food, staring moodily into space, and he went over to join him.

"A silver groat for them," he said as he sat down.

"What?" said Lostwithiel, startled.

"A silver groat for your thoughts," laughed Lithin. "Do you want to share them?"

"Umm…." said his captain. Then: "Do you ever have rows with Challis, Lithin?"

Lithin smiled. "No, I think that would be almost impossible. She has such a sweet nature."

Lostwithiel's expectant face fell and Lithin wished he had told a white lie. That was not the answer his captain had obviously been hoping for. And so, he rushed to continue: "Err…of course…it's all according what you mean by a 'row'. We do have…disagreements…sometimes."

"You do?" asked the elf lord, looking up eagerly.

Lithin's mind raced. "Oh, yes," he said airily. "We had one only last week."

"You did?" said Lostwithiel. "Can you tell me what it was about?"

Lithin was a bit flummoxed. "Er…well….It's a bit private, you know. Not the sort of thing Challis would like me to gossip about…if you know what I mean."

Lostwithiel did know and pressed him no more on the subject matter but asked: "And how did you resolve it?"

"Well, um, you know, we sort of chatted."

"Yes," said the elf. "That's what Thorin told me to do."

"And what Thorin didn't know about love…" said Lithin cheerfully….

"….wasn't worth knowing," they finished together. And they both laughed.

"You see," said Lithin seriously, "it's my opinion that you've got to give them their head, you know. You do love Poppy, don't you?"

"Of course I do," said Lostwithiel, "but she was being so obnoxious about Dis and I couldn't lie there and say nothing."

"The thing is," said Lithin thoughtfully. "although it might not look like it, she loves Dis. But Poppy's always a bit sharp about everyone, especially people like Dis who can see right through her. I reckon her aunt makes her feel vulnerable – and very young. Let her have her say, nod your head wisely and tackle the subject later – but not in a head-on fashion."

"Lostwithiel sighed: "You're so much more clever than I am in these matters, Lithin," he said.

"That's because I've been married longer," laughed his friend in reply. "I've learned to duck and dive a bit. Are you still speaking to each other?"

"Not really," the elf said.

"Well, when you go home this evening, just walk in as though nothing's happened. Be cheerful. Give her a kiss. Chat about your day. Find the right moment to apologise – even if you think it was her who was in the wrong. And then take her upstairs for…..you know." And he gave his captain a vaguely embarrassed grin.

Lostwithiel thanked him. He was right, of course. And he cheered up considerably thinking about the bit of "you know" on which he was now determined to end the evening.

.o00o.

Poppy was working hard – if a little ham-fistedly – in the kitchen. She was going to be the sort of wife that a husband really, really wanted to come home to, she had decided. But things were not QUITE going to plan. She had had trouble starting up the oven and her face was covered with sooty marks; some of the recipes had turned out either over-cooked or under-cooked and she had just cut the palm of her hand when a knife slipped as she peeled the vegetables. It really stung and was taking ages to stop bleeding; she tried to hold a compress to it with the fingers of the damaged hand whilst fishing around in a drawer for a bandage with the other. For a minute, she wanted to cry, but, instead, she wiped her sooty nose with the back of a sooty hand and pressed on.

A bit later, her hand now bandaged, she went looking for a few wild flowers. These she divided into two bunches; one she put into an elegant glass vase in the attractive dining-room (no eating up to the kitchen table tonight, she had decided) and the other she took upstairs in a pretty jug and put it in the bedroom. She made the bed carefully, pulling the sheets nice and tight and plumping up the pillows so that it all looked very inviting. But, then, as she stepped back to survey her work, she saw a stain on the carefully folded-back sheet where blood had begun to seep through the bandage on her hand. There was no clean linen – a young girl would be up from the dwarven settlement tomorrow to help her with that – and so, with a sigh, she plodded downstairs, rewrapped the bandage and then pulled off the sheet and turned it over so that the mark couldn't be seen.

Later that day, satisfied with the house, she began to get herself ready. She bathed then washed and dried her hair – all this was quite difficult with the cut hand – and then she brushed and brushed her hair until it shone and, donning a robe, took at least an hour finding just the right gown – something beautiful and alluring should do, she thought. Finally she chose one of palest blue. It was a bit floaty in places and a bit clingy in others. Just right, she thought, studying herself in the mirror. The food was nearly ready, browning in the oven and simmering on the hob, and so Poppy sat down to wait for her husband.

.o00o.

Pt III

When Lostwithiel came home that evening, wondering what he would find, he more or less expected that Poppy would still be lying sulkily in bed; or perhaps she might have disappeared off to the farmhouse to flirt with his men – just to show him; or perhaps she would be sitting around with her lips compressed, determined to give him the silent treatment. Whatever her manner, he thought it best to play it by ear and keep in mind what Lithin had told him.

What he didn't expect was what he got. As he opened the front door rather anxiously, Poppy, looking absolutely heart-stopping, came smiling out of the kitchen carrying a glass of wine which she offered to him. "Have you had a hard day?" she asked sweetly.

The elf was taken aback. Was this a game she was playing? Some kind of trick? This was totally so not Poppy. But, as he reached for the glass, she leaned forward and pressed a very soft kiss on his cheek. It felt so good that he nearly spilled his wine – in fact, he felt like throwing the glass recklessly over his shoulder and sweeping her into his arms that very moment. Instead, he cautiously waited to see what happened next.

"Er, yes," he responded to her question. "It was a very quiet day. Not much happened."

"Oh, good," she said. "Then you won't be very tired, will you?" And she gave a coy lift to her eyebrow.

Lostwithiel felt a bit uneasy. Was she setting him up only to knock him down in some way? This really wasn't Poppy, he thought again.

She took his cloak from his shoulders and then led him into the candlelit dining-room that had a very pretty spray of wild flowers on the table. Then she gestured him to sit down, all the time trying to keep her bandaged hand hidden in the folds of her skirt. She didn't want it to spoil the image of beauty she was trying to portray.

"I've made five courses," she smiled sweetly.

Lostwithiel gawped. Unless Dis were there or they ate up at the farmhouse, he was lucky to get one.

But, as she turned to go to the kitchen, he seized her by the elbow. "What have you done to your hand?" he asked.

"Oh, it's nothing," she said, trying to hide the hand in her skirt once more.

"Sit down," he said sternly, "I want to see this 'nothing'." And he unwrapped the rather clumsily tied bandage and examined the wound. It was jagged and still weeping.

Poppy shrugged – she didn't want any diversion from the main thrust of the evening. "I cut it peeling vegetables," she said. But, her husband made her sit still whilst he ran to get a bowl of warm water, some ointment and more bandages. Then he cleaned and wrapped her hand tenderly.

When he had finished, he gently kissed her bandaged palm and, laying her hand back down in her lap, he said: "You're not to do any more this evening. Just tell me what you've got organised and I'll fetch it." And then Lostwithiel set off for the kitchen feeling quite touched that she had worked so hard on the evening meal even after injuring herself.

The first course was fine: you can't exactly go too far wrong with a salad. The soup was pretty tasteless because Poppy had interpreted a "pinch of salt" too literally and the main dish of chicken was burned. But Lostwithiel soldiered through it all, praising her efforts, and Poppy was looking quite pleased with herself. Then he searched in the pantry for the dessert and found a wonky cake. It hadn't risen properly and the icing, mixed to a more than appropriate wetness, had started to slide off one end before it set.

"Is this for us?" he said.

"No," said Poppy, blushing. "I made that for Dis – to thank her for coming – but it hasn't worked out too well. We're having the fruit salad – I hope it's not too sweet. The top fell off the sugar shaker and the entire contents fell in. I had trouble scraping it all out."

Lostwithiel felt tears pricking his eyes. He put the cake down and, coming over to his wife, lifted her to her feet and kissed her softly on the lips.

"Let's forget about the fruit salad," he said. "And the cheese and biscuits. The only thing I want at this moment is you."

.o00o.

"I'm sorry, 'Thiel," she said in bed some time later. "And I really mean that. I did try to make things better between us but I'm not very good at cooking."

"Well, you can't be good at everything," said the elf lord.

"But, the trouble is, I'm not good at ANYTHING," she wailed. "I don't know why you stay with me."

"Hmm, well I can think of one thing that you ARE very good at," he murmured hotly into her ear. "And it's much better than cake. In fact, I wouldn't mind another helping." And they disappeared giggling under the coverlet.

.o00o.

The next morning, Dis arrived with her luggage and, when Poppy presented her with the cake, she was overwhelmed. She hugged her niece tightly and said: "That's the nicest thing that anyone has ever done for me." And suddenly Poppy felt ashamed that a wonky cake should mean so much to her aunt and was determined to try harder in future. She hugged her back and kissed her careworn cheek and felt the love of family that she had missed so much since her parents had left.

Then the pair of them set to and, during the next few weeks, had a wonderful time together.

The best bit, as far as Poppy was concerned, was the trip down to the Grey Havens with Dis to buy some new clothes. "Don't stint yourself," her husband had said generously. And she certainly hadn't. They had stayed at the Silver Bear for some days and she had bought herself three beautiful evening gowns and had insisted on buying one for Dis too.

And then there was a lucky turn of fate. The excellent cook at the Silver Bear approached her one evening and said: "I'm looking for a new position. I'm a country woman at heart and I find that living in town doesn't suit me. I remembered you were looking for a cook some time ago and I was wondering if you still had a vacancy." And Poppy could have jumped up and down for joy.

Agatha was a friendly, efficient, middle-aged woman and they had eaten enough of her food to know that they were getting a star. But she was fair-minded about handing in her notice. "The landlord of this inn has been very good to me and I refuse to leave him in the lurch," she said. "I reckon it might take as long as four months for him to replace me." But, Poppy didn't mind. As long as Agatha came in the end, she was worth waiting for.

"I'll stay as long as you need me," said Dis, "and we shall spend the time getting really organised and having a couple of practice runs. I wouldn't want Agatha to think that she's come to a household where the mistress doesn't know what's what." And Poppy agreed. And the next day they rode back to the manor house in the foothills, chattering and laughing all the way.

.o00o.

Pt IV

The next few weeks were thoroughly enjoyable ones for Poppy. She sat down with Dis and, with her aunt's help, she wrote out a whole series of menus for a number of dinner parties. They checked out the crockery to make sure they had enough for their plans and sent away to the Grey Havens for extra supplies. Then she travelled with her aunt to the dwarven settlement where they interviewed and employed a group of young people who were looking for jobs and whom Dis felt she could use as basic help in the kitchen. And, after that, they sat down and decided who should be invited to their first dinner party.

Poppy was quite artistic and had made and designed a whole bunch of beautiful invitation cards. "There," said Lostwithiel. "That's another thing you're good at." But, it was making a list of people to invite that proved to be the most difficult thing.

"We need to invite mainly those you know for the first trial run," said Dis. "Then you can relax and enjoy yourself. "And not too many at first."

So, Poppy decided on a bit of a mixed bunch. Representing the elves, she chose Lithin and Challis. For the men, she invited Roger and Barnaby and, for the dwarves, she invited two of the dwarven women from the settlement who were friends of Dis and whom she sort of knew from her visits there.

"Now, let's add some strangers into the mix," suggested her husband. And so, they decided on a rich merchant and his wife who were the parents of one of Roger's friends and whom Poppy had met briefly once, and a local landowner and his wife. "We need to get to know people in the area," Lostwithiel said.

And that makes twelve if you include us," said Poppy to her husband. "And I think that's enough.

All the invitations she sent out were accepted and the troop at the outpost, determined to help her to a successful evening, volunteered their services. She and Lostwithiel went up to the farmhouse one lunchtime and asked if any of the elves were prepared to wait at table.

"I don't mind doing it, sis," said Arion, looking vaguely uncomfortable. He had done so little for her all her life and this, he thought, might help a bit.

"Me, too," said Rostrel. "I'm not on duty that evening either. And I suppose we get to eat the leftovers in the kitchen," he grinned.

"I expect we'll pick up some good gossip as well," said Arion. "Servants are always the first."

Then Brand stepped shyly forward. "What about some music?" he asked. "Me and Meldreth could play the harp and sing."

"Wonderful idea!" exclaimed Poppy and she hugged and kissed them on the cheek. They both blushed and then gazed soulfully at her as she chatted with the others in the room.

"Haven't they learned their lesson after Mary?" thought Lostwithiel with irritation as he watched the silly smiles on their faces as their eyes followed Poppy around the room. Well, as long as they just worshipped her from afar, he could cope with that.

.o00o.

The time to the party fairly raced past and kept Poppy fully occupied as Lostwithiel had hoped. On the day, Poppy felt in complete control. She stood there ordering everyone about their tasks – Dis (not too officiously), the young dwarves helping her in the kitchen, Arion, Rostrel Meldreth and Brand. She herself did the artistic bit, gathering great swathes of flowers from the meadows and her newly-blossoming garden and then setting them out in lovely sprays and arrangements all around the house.

Dis had helped her get the many guest bedrooms ready, days before, because some of her visitors would need to stay the night and she and her aunt had prepared a menu for breakfast on the following day.

Lostwithiel was on duty until the late afternoon and was glad to be out of it all. But, when he got home early that evening, Poppy was in a bit of a panic, running around in her robe, her lovely evening gown hanging ready on the wardrobe.

"Quickly, 'Thiel," she said. "Get ready and then you can help me into this dress."

Dis and her minions were hot and flustered in the kitchen and Meldreth and Brand were tuning up in the dining-room. The elf lord rushed to bathe himself and then hurried into his dressing-room to put on his outfit. It was something he hadn't worn in years because he seldom socialised these days and he hoped that, in spite of the increased athleticism of his body, it would still fit. And it did, just about.

"Hurry! Hurry!" Poppy cried and he emerged from his room in a billowing waft of black silk. His wife was lifting down her dress but stopped, frozen in her task, her jaw dropping.

"Will it do?" asked the elf anxiously. "It's not too tight, is it?"

She didn't answer but continued to stare.

"I'll go and change," he said, turning on his heel.

"Don't you dare go and change," gasped Poppy. "You look wonderful."

Lostwithiel was wearing the black silk outfit that had so impressed Rose when she had been only a young girl. It had made her look at him in a different light. And now Poppy was looking at him differently too. It moulded tightly to his body, showing every magnificent line, and a delicate gold chain that had been a wedding present from Thorin nestled in the shadowy hollow of his throat. Over the top, he wore a floor-length silken surcoat that floated elegantly about him as he walked. Suddenly, he no longer looked like her 'Thiel but like a dark and dangerous elf lord and she felt as if she couldn't breathe.

"Do you approve, then?" he asked, holding out his arms wide. And she dropped her dress upon the bed and flung herself upon his chest. "There's just about time," she whispered huskily with a naughty twinkle in her eye.

But Lostwithiel laughed and pushed her from him. "I don't think so, Poppy," he said. "There's only time to get you dressed." And, with a reluctant sigh, she had to agree.

The dress was a new one and, when she had it on, it made the elf think of a misty evening. It was made of pale grey, floaty stuff and tiny spangles glittered like stars amidst the folds.

"You look very beautiful," he breathed standing back to give her a searing look. "No-one will notice the food – they'll be so entranced watching you." And he kissed her gently on the lips and, arm in arm, they descended the great sweep of stairs to receive their guests.

.o00o.

The evening was wildly successful. Beyond expectation. The dwarf women, the merchant and his wife and the land-owner and his partner were a little uncomfortable at first because they were not overly familiar with the others in the room, but Lostwithiel, Challis and Lithin, with their sophisticated charm, soon helped them to relax; Barnaby chipped in with his bluff humour and Roger was polite and well-mannered; and, after only a short time, everyone was chattering around the table.

Poppy was struck again at how she was seeing a different side to her husband. Here was the gracious courtier who for hundreds of years had practised his elegance and wit at the palace of Thranduil. She suddenly realised just how much her father had intimidated him and for how long he had walked in Thorin's shadow. He smiled at her from the far end of the table and she felt as if she were melting into a pool on the floor. She wondered how quickly she could wave off her guests, either to the farmhouse or up the stairs to the guest rooms.

Poppy herself was all pretty manners and observant hostess. Brand and Meldreth softly strummed their harps and sang in beautiful harmonies in the corner. Arion and Rostrel served the food and wine elegantly and efficiently whilst Dis cooked up a storm in the kitchen and excelled herself.

When they had all retired to the drawing-room, Dis changed into the lovely dress that Poppy had bought her in the Grey Havens and, looking very fine, she joined the guests. They received her with an appreciative round of applause and no-one, knowing that this was Poppy's aunt, thought it strange that the cook should join them.

The party was on the point of breaking up when there came a sudden banging on the door. They all looked startled and Lostwithiel went to see who this could possibly be at such a late hour. Then he walked back into the room smiling and behind him came striding Telbarad, cloaked and booted, and behind him came Rose.

Poppy forgot all her gracious elegance and leaped to her feet screeching, "Rose!" And the sisters were immediately in each other's arms, hugging the life out of each other. But Telbarad looked concerned and, trying to separate the two, murmured, "Careful, now." And Rose stepped back and removed her cloak.

And, "Rose!" screeched Poppy again, much to everyone's amusement as they all saw at once that she was pregnant. Poppy burst into tears and Rose drew her upon her shoulder and shushed her. She knew why she was crying: it was a mixture of joy and of sadness. "They'll never see the baby," wept Poppy. And Rose knew exactly who "they" were and wept quietly too.

"They'll see yours, Poppy," she tried to console her, but they all knew it wasn't enough. "I waited too long," she said. "I thought they would live on Middle-earth forever and would always be there for me."

But, once their cloaks had been removed and they were sitting down and had a glass of wine in their hand, Rose gravitated towards the women where the talk was all of babies whilst Telbarad sat down with the men who had many eager questions to ask him about the trouble in the North. Arion and the elves had not yet left and had been helping to clear up in the kitchen but now Lostwithiel went and fetched them and they also joined in the serious conversation.

No-one left or went to bed until the early hours but everyone was having such an excellent and interesting time that no-one wanted to be the first to break up the party.

At last, the members of the troop felt obliged to leave because some of them had early duties the next day and the landowner and his wife set off for their home in the moonlight because it wasn't far away. Those from the dwarven settlement and the Grey Havens were staying for breakfast and a room was also hastily made up for Rose and Telbarad.

Before she went to bed, Rose sat with Dis and Poppy. "I shall need help up in the North when I give birth in a few months," she said, "and then I am returning with the baby to the forge – Rivendell is too far. I always thought I'd have Thorin and Tauriel there to help me, but now…"

"You don't need to ask," said Dis straight away. "I'll move in with you." And she kissed Rose tenderly.

"But do you think you can come North with me when we return in a few days?" asked Rose.

Dis looked at Poppy.

"Yes, go, Dis," said Poppy. "Agatha will soon be here and, now I've done it once, I know I can do it again."

And so the three women went to bed with their lives sorted.

.o00o.

Poppy and Lostwithiel carefully hung up their beautiful clothes and, as his wife brushed her golden curls in front of the mirror, the elf climbed into bed.

Poppy looked at her husband's reflection. "Don't take off that gold chain," she grinned, as he remembered that he was still wearing it and his hands moved to his neck. She walked across to the bed and bent to kiss the hollow where it lay. The elf lord closed his eyes and shivered as her lips delicately touched his skin.

"I've been waiting all evening for this," she said.

"Aren't you tired?" he asked with a provocative smile.

"No," she said. "It's all been so wonderful that I feel full of energy and ready for anything."

"Anything?" he asked as he threw back the coverlet.

"Absolutely anything," she laughed and she leaped into bed beside him.

.o00o.

Next week, I shall be telling you the penultimate story. Will Poppy get broody once Rose has her baby? Or is there something she doesn't know about elves that might put her off the whole idea? With that teasing thought, I shall leave you all until next Sunday, LOL!


	33. Chapter 33 His Daughter has a Baby

Just one more Poppy story left and then THE very last story which will be a sort of postscript for Lostwithiel and a post-postscript for Thorin.

And, no, I have not made up all the following stuff about the love-life of the elves. I got it straight from the horse's (Tolkien's) mouth, LOL! I will admit to tweaking it a bit for the purposes of this story but I shall leave a footnote at the end justifying myself further.

Poppy is surrounded by other people's children, including a young niece and a nephew. Will she be persuaded that it is time she had her own?

.o00o.

THORIN'S DAUGHTER HAS A BABY

Pt 1

Poppy was spending a delightful afternoon with her sister, Rose, and her friend, Challis, an elf from the outpost. She was also spending it sitting on the floor with young Thorin and baby Tauriel, Rose's children, and little Beren, the child belonging to Challis. She wasn't very good with children in general because she just didn't have the patience or the interest but she loved being with Thorin and Tauriel because they reminded her so much of her parents. And Beren was a sweet child too and was welcome to a share of her affections. Rose had given birth to Thorin just over three years ago and had come to live in her father's old forge along with Aunt Dis. Telbarad visited as often as he could and so it wasn't surprising when she gave birth to Tauriel a couple of years later, at practically the same time that Challis and Lithin had Beren.

Poppy was delighted to have her beloved sister and her niece and nephew living so close by and they often visited each other. The children adored their beautiful aunt and always showered hugs and kisses upon her when they met and, since there had not been many people in Poppy's life who had loved her so unconditionally, this was a new and welcome experience, fully returned in kind. Beren was lucky to be the recipient of any overflow.

She had invited them all to share the day with her in her lovely manor house and her housekeeper, Agatha, had cooked some delightful food of the kind that especially appealed to children – elf cakes, orc fingers and mashed po-tay-toes - and they were now all replete. The children played happily with some of Poppy's old toys which she had dug out for them from the chest where she kept such items ready for the time when she had her own, and the women chatted quietly amongst themselves.

"So, how's it been going this past year with Beren?" Rose asked Challis.

"It gets better all the time," answered the pretty elf. "He's been sleeping through the night for some months now and he is such a good-natured child during the day."

Poppy smiled and lifted Beren onto her lap, dangling a toy tantalisingly just above the little boy's head. He chuckled at the game and reached for it. Now, if only she could be certain that she would produce a baby as well-behaved as Beren, then she would be prepared to have one next week. And she and Lostwithiel had definitely been thinking about it just lately.

"No change of heart, then?" grinned Rose. "No wishing you had never had him in the first place?" They all knew that children were hard work, even Poppy, who had watched her sister sometimes struggle to get through the day because she was so exhausted.

Challis laughed. "It's all been worth it," she said. "Definitely. Things change radically after you have a baby. The relationship with your husband can never be the same. But…..you win some, you lose some."

"So, what do you think you've lost?" asked Poppy idly as she swung Beren over her head.

"Well, there's the physical side to our relationship. As expected, we just don't do it any more," said Challis calmly.

"WHAT!" exclaimed Poppy, nearly dropping Beren. "Say that again! 'As expected…..?' What does that mean, for goodness' sake?"

Challis blinked. "We don't make love any more," she repeated. "Elves don't, you know, after they have a child." Then seeing the confusion in Poppy's eyes, she added. "It's what happens. Hasn't Lostwithiel told you about this?"

Poppy shoved the startled Beren into his mother's arms and, leaping to her feet, began an agitated walk around the room.

"Why on earth does this happen, Challis?" she almost shouted.

"Well, I'm not quite sure," said the elf, looking upset and concerned over how angry Poppy appeared to be. "It's just the way we're made, I suppose. Something switches off once a child is born."

Poppy stopped pacing for a moment and flung her hands wide. "But don't you CARE?"

Challis wrinkled her brow and thought about it: "No, I don't think either of us do. We knew it would happen and, somehow, all our energy is channelled into looking after Beren."

Poppy stood with her mouth open for a moment, staring at Challis in disbelief. Then she turned on Rose.

"Did YOU know about this?" she asked.

"Sort of," responded her sister.

"So why didn't you warn me before I married Lostwithiel?" Poppy snapped.

"Because it's not something that affects my own life and it was a piece of knowledge that was tucked away in the back of my mind. Didn't mother discuss it with you?"

"No," said Poppy, "and it's too late to ask her why not."

"Well, perhaps she didn't think about it either, not with our father being a dwarf. I don't believe she was affected by this." In fact, no-one who had ever seen Thorin and Tauriel together could possibly imagine that the physical side of their marriage had fizzled out after they had produced children.

Poppy was feeling very let down, by her family in general, but by her husband in particular. She had entered her marriage in total ignorance of a very important fact and no-one had thought to tell her about it. Rose got up and put her arms around her. "Don't worry," she said. "I'm sure everything will be alright. Just talk to 'Thiel about it."

Too right she was going to talk to 'Thiel about it, she thought. And she was in a very bad mood for the rest of the day.

.o00o.

Pt II

Rose and Challis left later that afternoon and Lostwithiel came home early that evening. He chatted about his day and Poppy listened politely. Then they ate the meal which Agatha had prepared for them. But, when the housekeeper had tidied up the kitchen and had disappeared off to her own quarters, Lostwithiel leaned across the table and, seizing Poppy by the hand, said huskily: "I've been thinking about you all day. Let's have an early night."

Perfect, thought Poppy. And she looked at him through golden lashes and led him up to their bedroom.

Lostwithiel picked her up and tossed her on the bed, laughing. Poppy lifted her arms to him and he began to tug at her clothes. She helped him with the buttons and he flung off his own clothes as well.

"Oh, Poppy," he gasped, taking her in his arms, "I've wanted to do this for hours. I don't know how I concentrated at work or got through that meal. I thought Agatha would never leave." And he buried his face in her neck.

Poppy ran a hand down his back. "So, you really, really want me?" she asked.

"Yes, I really, really do," he murmured hotly in her ear. And he got himself into a more convenient position.

Suddenly, Poppy pushed him off and said in a bored voice, "Sorry, not tonight, 'Thiel."

"What!" he exclaimed in a confused voice. But, after a moment, he just rolled back on top of her and grinned. "Stop teasing me, Poppy. I shall burst if I wait much longer."

"Well," she said coolly, pushing him off again, "you'll just have to burst, won't you, because I'm not interested." And she climbed under the sheet and pulled it up to her chin.

"I don't understand," he said and a totally bemused look spread across his handsome face.

"Well, if you don't understand," she said, clutching the sheet to herself grimly, "then how do you expect me to understand when you do the same thing to me?"

"When…what…I've never…" and he stuttered to a halt in total incomprehension.

"Why didn't you tell me, Thiel?" she shouted over the edge of the sheet. "How could you marry me and not tell me?" And the tears of anger and frustration began to roll down her cheek.

Lostwithiel, suffering from a totally different form of frustration and not having the slightest idea what his wife was talking about, hastened to wipe the tears away with his thumb, kissing her gently on her lips as he did so.

"I think you need a cuddle," he whispered, and he pulled up his side of the bedclothes and scrambled in beside her. He groaned quietly as he felt her body pressing against his own but he put his arms about her and patiently asked: "What is it, dearest? Tell me what this is all about and I'll make it better."

Poppy elbowed him away. "Well, from what I heard this afternoon," she snapped, "you'll have a hard time making this better."

Lostwithiel began to feel anxious, but asked quietly: "And what DID you hear this afternoon?"

His wife took a deep breath. It was such a shocking thing that she found it very difficult to put it into words: "Challis said…. Challis told me….. and then Rose said…..and you never explained…..and neither did my mother….." And she burst into racking sobs.

Lostwithiel tentatively took her in his arms again. This time, she didn't push him away but lay her head upon his chest and cried her eyes out. The elf lord stroked her hair and waited. When the tears finally stopped and she was just gulping and sniffing, he lifted her chin and said firmly, "Try again, my love."

She looked into his concerned eyes and, touching his face, she said steadily: "Challis told me that, once elves have had a child, they don't make love any more. And I can't bear it – I just can't bear it."

Lostwithiel looked steadily back at her. "I thought you knew," he said quietly. "Surely your mother told you? I knew from an early age – it was all part of our upbringing. It somehow seems quite natural."

"Well, I'm not an elf – not a proper one, anyway," she snapped, "and it doesn't seem natural to me. And I don't know why my mother never spoke about it. She obviously never gave up the physical side of HER marriage. So, how do you explain that?"

Lostwithiel wrinkled his brow. "Umm, perhaps this off switch only happens when two elves marry. With your father being a dwarf – who knows what difference that made?"

Poppy brightened. "So, if I'm half dwarf, do you think that means it won't happen to us either?"

"I don't know," Lostwithiel said. "I suppose we'll have to wait and see."

She became agitated again. "I don't know how you can talk about this so calmly," she muttered. "I don't know how you can accept that we will never make love again once we have children. How can you possibly give up all this?" And she kissed and caressed him until he was groaning with passion.

"I don't know," he moaned inarticulately into her hair. "It seems unbelievable – I just know it happens." He rolled on top of her again and, this time, she didn't push him away. "Well," he panted, "the switch is definitely in the on position at the moment. Don't you think we ought to make the most of it?"

"Alright," conceded Poppy rather grumpily. "But if you think I shall ever risk having children then you've got another think coming!"

But there was no use either of them thinking about it because Poppy was pregnant already.

.o00o.

Pt III

The following day, Lostwithiel set off on a four-day patrol and Poppy decided to spend some time with Rose. It was a fine day and she ambled on her horse in the sunshine down to the forge, thinking about her former home.

Before she got married, she had thought of the forge as a bit of a prison: it was boring and far from her friends in the Grey Havens. She had wished every day that her parents would decide to move into the town and felt low-spirited and grumpy when they never did. She had moaned a lot but Thorin had calmly ignored her saying that he knew what was best for his family.

Now that she lived in her beautiful house at the outpost, she had begun to see the forge in a more positive light. It was quiet and in a very pretty position by the river which had provided a measure of entertainment in the way of fishing and swimming and was also an idyllic setting for picnics. It was spacious and attractive and was large enough to put up friends and relatives if they wanted to stay the night. It was cosy and comforting, cool in summer and warm in winter, and enough people passed by at the crossroads to amuse them if they were bored. And she remembered standing on the gate as a child with Rose, watching rich merchants and beautiful, haughty elves ride by on their way to the Grey Havens whilst her sister sang a little song about fine ladies riding on white horses with rings on their fingers and bells on their toes.

She looked forward now to returning to the place that she still thought of as home. But it was a bitter-sweet experience. Sometimes she would be sitting on the floor of the main room, playing with the children and she would catch a glimpse of dress material flashing past the open door of the kitchen and she would think it was her mother when it was only Dis. At other times she would be day-dreaming and she would hear the tinking of a hammer on metal in the forge and it would take her a few moments to realise that it was Rose and not her father. And then a feeling of sadness and loss would nearly overwhelm her.

But she received a warm welcome with lots of hugs and kisses as Rose and the children came to the door. Dis was busy making the evening meal and they embraced each other with more genuine fondness than when Poppy had lived there.

They spent a happy evening together; Rose put the children to bed and Poppy unpacked in her old room, the little bedroom that had been created out of the old playroom after she had been born. It was small but it had been all hers and she stroked the embroidered pillow and coverlet with an affectionate hand.

She felt very tired that evening for some reason and, after a desultory conversation with the other two women, she took herself off for an early night. She slept very heavily, with her back to the door, and she was roused the next morning by the mattress dipping as someone sat on her bed. She smiled sleepily to herself and turned over, expecting to look into her father's blue eyes and to hear his deep, rumbling voice say: "Come on, slug-a-bed! Time to get up!"

But, instead, it was Dis, of course, sitting there with a steaming mug of tea. Poppy took one, confused look at her and burst into tears. Dis hastily put down the mug and clasped her niece in her arms. "There, there, chicken," she said, and she rocked her on her breast. She needed no explanation. Her own home was still haunted by the ghosts of her husband and her two sons and she knew the sudden grief that such moments caused when she grasped at, but lost, their shadows.

After a short time, Poppy's crying ceased and she lay there quietly with her arms around her aunt for a while. But, suddenly, she jerked away and clutched a hand to her mouth. Dis recognised the movement and seized a china bowl which was decorating the top of the old toy chest and held it under Poppy's chin. Rose had come quietly to the door when she had heard the crying. Now she dashed forward and held back Poppy's long hair. The spasm lasted only a brief time and then Poppy lay back on her pillow, grey and sweating. The two women fussed around her and, after a few minutes, the colour returned to her cheeks. She drank a little tea, ate a slice of toast and soon claimed that she was perfectly fine.

But, the same happened the following morning and Dis and Rose looked wisely at each other over the heaving shoulders.

When the vomiting stopped, Rose sat on the bed and helped her sister to a sip of tea. "Do you think you might be pregnant?" she asked.

Poppy looked horrified: "Of course I'm not. We take precautions. And, anyway, after what Challis told me the other day, I don't want children."

But, then she remembered how much more careless she and 'Thiel had been in recent weeks because they had vaguely thought that it would be nice to be parents – before she found out that horrible piece of information from her elven friend.

"Shall we examine you?" Dis asked gently, because both women possessed some skills in midwifery. And Poppy reluctantly lay back on the bed.

And, yes, she was pregnant, they pronounced. They tried to be thrilled and excited for her but they knew she was devastated by the news.

Poppy set off for the outpost the following day, insisting that she was fine on her own because she needed a private, little "chat" with her husband. And so, they let her go. When she got to the manor house, Lostwithiel was already there and hastened to greet her at the door when he heard her horse. But she swept coldly past him without a word and went upstairs to remove her cloak and change.

Lostwithiel hurried anxiously after her, trying to guess what had happened at the forge to put her in such a bad mood. He gave a tired sigh. There always seemed to be a crisis as far as Poppy was concerned and he wondered if their entire life together would be spent lurching from problem to problem: problems that he usually – and mysteriously – got blamed for.

She had flung her cloak upon the bed and was sitting in front of a mirror angrily brushing out her hair. He stood behind her and gently removed the brush from her hand and then he began to slowly run it through her curls himself.

"What happened at the forge, Poppy?" he asked.

She closed her eyes and let the brushing soothe some of her anger away. Finally, she took a deep breath and said quietly: "I'm pregnant, 'Thiel."

She felt the brush stop. Then the elf put it down very, very carefully. Then he knelt next to her and, taking her hands in his, said, "That's wonderful." And his eyes were full of joy.

"But it's not," whispered Poppy, "because it could mean the end of our relationship. You might be ready for it, but I'm not."

He kissed her on the lips very gently. "Let's just think about the baby," he said, "and forget about what might or might not happen. It's a very wonderful thing that you are bearing my child and I can hardly speak for happiness."

And she held his face between her hands and looked into his eyes. She could see the ecstasy there and suddenly felt mean and selfish. Typical, she thought about herself, only concerned with her own wants and desires. She sighed and returned his kiss. "It's happened now – there's no changing things. Help me cope, 'Thiel," she said.

.o00o.

Pt IV

Lostwithiel's way of helping Poppy cope – or at least it was the noble excuse he made to himself – was to make love to her as much as possible so that she could see that his passion was unflagging and that it was unlikely to change. In fact, he didn't need to try too hard because the more her pregnancy advanced, the stronger his physical attraction to his wife became. And it did help Poppy because, if he were still attracted to her while she was overweight and ungainly, how much more attractive would he find her once she was her normal, slim and beautiful self again.

And so the months passed and Poppy tried hard not to think too much about the future.

In fact, she began to enjoy her pregnancy. She felt full of energy and still went up to the outpost to help out most days. Not that she was allowed to do much. The elves made a tremendous fuss of her, sitting her down a lot and bringing her cups of tea and telling her how beautiful she looked and what a wonderful mother she was going to make. Poppy decided that she could cope with the state of pregnancy forever, if necessary.

And, although Poppy thought she looked ugly, to her husband and others around her, she seemed to grow more beautiful by the day. Her hair became wonderfully luxuriant, her skin looked very fine and felt extremely soft and smooth to the touch (Lostwithiel could vouch for this), there was a lovely rosy glow about her and she smiled and laughed in a way she had never done before. The happy aura that hung about her made people want to be with her and Poppy had never felt so wanted for herself and not just for her looks in her life. And, as for the increasing expansion of her body, it seemed to suit her. She wore it lightly and the elves just wanted to cuddle and protect her.

Lostwithiel wanted to do more than just cuddle her. He found her increased plumpness and the smoothness of her skin very sensuous and, as he snuggled into her at night, Poppy wasn't the only one who didn't want the pregnancy to come to an end.

Apart from the fact that she was enjoying it, Poppy knew very little about pregnancy or childbirth. And, somehow, it became a tacit agreement between her husband, her sister and her aunt that she should be kept in ignorance because they had decided amongst themselves that the less she knew, the more she would be able to cope when it actually happened. She never asked and they never offered information. And so Poppy drifted around in a romantic, golden glow of her own imaginings about what it was like to give birth and no-one told her any better. When the time came, thought Lostwithiel, they would all be there to help her through it. No point in frightening the life out of her in advance for no reason.

The problem was, since she was half-elven, no-one even knew how long her pregnancy would last. An elven pregnancy went on for a year and a dwarven one for 9 months. The physician guessed that Poppy's pregnancy would be about 10 months or so and everyone was happy to go along with that. It seemed likely. Why not?

And so, as she drew near to the end of her ninth month, Poppy decided to go with Rose into town whilst Dis looked after little Thorin and Tauriel. She thought it was about time she stocked up on baby clothes and other necessities and Rose knew all the best places where such items could be found. They planned to stay overnight with Barnaby Waller so that they could see how the lovely Cat was getting along. She was nine now and such a bonny child, a joy to everyone who came into contact with her and the light of her adoptive father's life.

Poppy was still feeling very fit but Rose insisted that they take her mother's old trap. "Especially as you'll doubtless buy up half the town," she laughed. They chatted with the close intimacy of loving sisters as they trundled along.

"So, how's your love life?" asked Rose, half in fun and half in concern.

"Almost too much for me to handle," grinned Poppy. "'Thiel assures me that nothing will change after the baby's born." Then a shadow passed over her face. "But what does he know?" she sighed.

Rose took a hand from the reins and placed it gently on her sister's arm. "And what do you know? Or anyone? What we do know is that our parents were very happy together. So take that as a good sign." Poppy nodded and they changed the subject.

They spent an enjoyable afternoon in the Grey Havens choosing baby supplies and the imminence of the birth suddenly became very real to Poppy almost for the first time. Tired but happy, they both made their way to Barnaby's mansion and Cat came rushing out to meet them, followed by her father. She was such a pretty, happy little thing and she flung her arms about Poppy and lay her head upon her swollen belly. "Are you ready to come out yet?" she asked softly. And Poppy laughed and said, "Not quite yet."

"I shall sing to him this evening," Cat said, "and tell him how we can't wait to see him."

"So, it's a boy?" laughed Rose. "Wouldn't it be nice to have a little girl to play with?"

Cat considered this carefully. "Well," she said at last, "I prefer boys, but I suppose I don't mind either." And that evening, as she had promised, she tried to sing the baby into the world.

They all applauded when she had finished her little song and the baby kicked in appreciation. "Look," said the little girl gleefully, "he really liked it."

"And what a beautiful mother he will find waiting for him when he does come into the world," smiled Barnaby. "You look wonderful, my dear. And to think this could have been my grandchild about to be born." And he patted her arm a little sadly.

Rose studied Poppy's face for a moment and noticed that she had quite a high colour. "Are you feeling all right?" she asked.

Poppy suddenly felt exhausted and said, "I'm rather tired, I suppose, so I think I'll have an early night." And Rose, a little concerned, helped her upstairs to her room. But, at the bedroom door, Poppy suddenly paused and held her stomach. Rose looked at her and said as calmly as possible: "Is that a contraction you're having?"

Her sister furrowed her brow. "It could be – I don't know. Something tightened and it hurt a bit." And she turned to Rose with a frightened look upon her face.

Rose led her into the room. Get ready for bed, Poppy," she said quietly. "I'll go and get things organised – just in case." She stroked her hair and smiled. "I think that Cat's little song may have been a bit too effective." And she hurried out of the room.

Poppy, feeling flushed with both excitement and fear, unpacked her beautiful nightgown. It was pretty and delicate and smothered in white lace. Then she brushed out her hair. It was at this point that she felt another painful tightening, a bit worse this time. But it wasn't too bad, she thought. I can cope with that. Then she climbed into the lovely bed and arranged herself elegantly upon a pile of pillows, her hair spread out gorgeously about her. She imagined herself lying with a pretty baby in her arms whilst visitors came and wondered at the beautiful picture of motherhood she presented to the world. And she smiled confidently to herself.

Then Rose came back into the room, with a great pile of towels in her arms. She stared at Poppy for a moment, said, "Oh dear, that will never do," and rushed from the room again. She came back with Barnaby who was carrying an assortment of clothing. He spread the items out on the bed.

"These belonged to my wife," he said, "and Rose thinks they might be more suitable." And he held up a thick linen shift. "We don't want to spoil that pretty thing you're wearing at the moment, do we?" And he tried to smile jovially.

Spoil? In what way, spoil? Poppy didn't understand nor did she want to think about things too hard. And she definitely didn't want to wear that ugly nightgown. The baby got born; she held it as it slept in her arms; people visited and said how beautiful she looked. That was it, wasn't it? And then she experienced another contraction that was so sharp she gasped and bent over.

Rose came swiftly to her side and Poppy grasped her hand tightly. "It hurts, Rose," she whispered, her eyes wide. "How long will this take?"

"It could take hours," her sister replied, "and it could be – uncomfortable. But I'll make up some potions for you that will help."

"Hours?" said Poppy bleakly.

Rose gave her a hug. "Yes, and that's why it's best to change into these old things. There's a bit of a mess, you know."

"Mess?" Poppy repeated. And Rose had to smile inwardly as she remembered Lostwithiel's shocked reactions when her sister had been born.

"Come on," she said firmly and she helped Poppy from the bed, stripped it, covered the mattress with old sheets and then helped her change into the linen shift.

"Don't let Lostwithiel see me like this," she wailed. "No wonder elves go off things if they see their wives looking like a frump."

"You look lovely, Poppy," whispered Rose and she kissed her on the cheek, nestled her on a pile of pillows and went off to make a pain-controlling draught.

But, by the time that Lostwithiel fell over the threshold in a panic some hours later, his wife was certainly not looking very lovely at all. And, what is more, she absolutely didn't care. He found her standing by the side of the bed, moaning and bent over in pain, her shift stained and her hair stuck to her sweaty face.

"Come and help her, 'Thiel," said Rose. "Support her and rub her back." The elf dashed forward, horrified, experiencing unpleasant flashbacks to the time when Tauriel had given birth. But as soon as he reached her side, she snarled: "Don't touch me! Don't ever touch me again! This is all your fault." And she clutched the bedclothes as another spasm ran through her.

Lostwithiel sent a pleading and fraught look across to Rose and Rose said in a firm voice: "Now stop being silly, Poppy. You'll feel better if he massages your back." And a scowling Poppy reluctantly let her husband come to her aid.

The physician had visited but thought there was still some time before the baby's birth and so had left the expectant mother in the capable hands of her sister. But, over the next hour after Lostwithiel's arrival, things began to come to a head and the pain increased.

Poppy was really angry. She didn't weep but shouted and yelled and swore at the elf lord, blaming him for everything. He was upset, of course. "Don't worry," whispered Rose. "Some women behave like this. She doesn't mean it. The anger is helping her through the pain."

Well, she certainly sounded as if she meant it, thought the distressed elf lord. And he promised himself that he would never put his beloved through anything like this again. And he understood the reason why elves only produced one child.

The physician returned at just the right moment, expressed pleasure at Poppy's progress and, only a short time later, as Poppy screeched at the top of her lungs, smoothly delivered a beautiful baby girl. Poppy fell back on her pillows, suddenly quiet and clutching the baby to her bosom in exhausted wonder. Lostwithiel collapsed into a chair and sobbed in relief. Rose moved around efficiently, helping the doctor to tidy up, pulling the covers neatly across the bed and brushing Poppy's hair. And then the parents were left on their own so that they could get to know their new child.

Lostwithiel approached the bed apprehensively and hovered over the two of them. "I'm sorry, Poppy," he said. "I promise I'll never touch you again." And he wiped away a tear from his eye.

Poppy glared at him. "Don't you dare – don't you dare say that! That's the last thing I want you to say!"

The elf looked startled. "But that's what you've been yelling at me for the last hour or so."

"Oh, stop being silly, 'Thiel," she snapped. "Of course I want you to touch me. I want you to tell me how beautiful and wonderful I am and how you just can't wait to get me into bed again. Hasn't this whole pregnancy been about that?"

Lostwithiel gulped and took her by the hand. He looked at his lovely daughter and he looked at her beautiful mother and a huge wave of love just washed through him. And, to his heartfelt relief, he realised his love for Poppy was still tinged with desire.

"I think I shall always love and want you, Poppy," he said and he kissed her gently on her white throat and then passionately on her lips. After that blissful moment, he took the golden-haired baby in his arms. "Thank you for giving me a daughter," he said, "and I wish your parents could be here to see how beautiful their grandchild is." And Poppy wept a little when she thought of her mother and father who were going to miss so much.

"What shall we call her?" he asked.

"Rosie, of course," she answered, as if this were the most obvious name in the world.

And Thorin's daughter and the elf lord and the baby sat entwined on the bed in each other's arms. And their life changed dramatically from that moment onward – and it changed for the better.

.o00o.

Well, I expect that this story could do with a footnote to explain where I got my ideas about the sex life of elves from. So. Here it is:

About six months ago, I came across a letter from Tolkien to a fan in which he said that elves lost interest in sex once they had a child. I tucked this away in the back of my mind because I thought it would provide an interesting scenario for Poppy. You could say that Tolkien's remark reflected abstemious attitudes in Catholicism but he himself had four children and, IMO, had a passionate relationship with his wife.

HOWEVER, I did have the feeling that, if I explored the Silmarillion, this idea about one child and then no sex wouldn't hold water, but for the sake of my story, I decided to run with it. And it IS quite amusing, isn't it, in this story?

I shall try to track down his letter, but, in the meantime, I would ask you to consider various things, such as the fact that the Middle-earth doesn't seem to teem with elven children, that there seems to be a brother and sister relationship between Galadriel and Celeborn and that elves don't have a birthday but a "begetting day" which implies that elves have sex so infrequently that they can remember when it all happened, LOL!

Here is a comment in tolkiengateway: "Elves have few children, as a rule; (Fëanor and Nerdanel were an exception, since they had seven sons), and there are relatively sizable intervals between each child. They are soon preoccupied with other pleasures; their libido wanes and they focus their interests elsewhere, such as the arts. Nonetheless, they take great delight in the union of love, and they cherish the days of bearing and raising children as the happiest times of their lives."

And here is a comment from a discussion on Planet Tolkien: "Elves, it says, tend to bear children shortly after they marry. It is said in general they have few children, and although four was frequent in the early days, with the passing of ages, this number fell. Feanor, with seven sons, is the highest on record. The reason for this, apparently, is that Elves pass to their children "a greater share and strength of their being, in mind and in body" than Mortals. Having children, therefore, drains them to a greater extent than is seen in Men (Look at Miriel, for example, who was almost consumed having passed so much of her spirit into Feanor)."

Well, I tweaked these ideas and I hope you enjoyed the outcome. What do you think? A tweak too far?

Poppy and Lostwithiel only had the one child but I don't want anyone to think it was because they lost interest in sex; rather, I think that one child fits in more with Poppy's personality: she is selfish (and nothing will ever change that completely) and would also, I think, want to put all the love that she has got to spare into one child and not spread it too thinly. Perhaps it's also painful for her to think how much her parents are missing as the baby grows. Who knows? Perhaps she will have another once they reach the Undying Lands?

.o00o.


	34. Chapter 34 Postscript for an Elf Lord

THE VERY LAST STORY! After all these months of story-telling, I would really like to hear from you, especially from those who have stuck with and enjoyed these stories from the very beginning. I've loved writing them for you.

Just a little Lostwithiel PS and a Thorin PPS! Lostwithiel, our favourite elf, muses on his life. Some of it will be new to you but some will be bits you already know from the other stories in All About Thorin, except that, this time, it's told from Lostwithiel's POV.

And dear Thorin and Tauriel make a final appearance.

(NB As in my first chapter, scenes in Mirkwood between Thorin and Thranduil are based more on the book than the film. Perhaps I would have written it differently, with the two knowing each other, if I had seen the film first.)

.o00o.

POSTSCRIPT FOR AN ELF LORD

Pt I

Lostwithiel, the elf lord, leaned on the railing of the ship and gazed into the dense sea fret. He could see nothing, but the ship sailed serenely and confidently onwards. It was as if he looked upon a grey, misty page where all his life on Middle-earth was written and he could read the endless chapters of his long past.

Whenever he thought about his life, he always envisaged it as being BT (Before Thorin) and AT (After Thorin). It was a story of two halves and neither part of him recognised the other. It was as if he were two totally different people.

The BT period had lasted a long, long time – hundreds of years, in fact. He was an immortal elf and he still had a long way to go. A long way to go until what? He didn't know but, certainly, the AT bit had been a lot more satisfying even though, so far, it was a lot shorter.

He had been born in Mirkwood. His parents had been warriors, both at the court of Oropher, the elven king of that place and, later, of Thranduil, Oropher's son, who ruled after him. They had been old enough to fight in the Last Alliance of Elves and Men and had been witness to the near destruction of the elves of Middle-earth who, after the first overthrow of Sauron, were become a much reduced people with many leaving Middle-earth completely after seeking the Grey Havens.

Lostwithiel grinned wryly to himself. Now, that great union of forces should have been called the Last Alliance of Dwarves, Elves and Men but the elves usually omitted the dwarves because of the dislike and distrust – even hatred - that existed between the races.

After his father had been killed by a band of orcs in Mirkwood when he was a child, his mother had sat him down and pleaded with him not to become a warrior too but to take an interest in the beautiful things of life: poetry, music, singing, dancing and witty conversation that would please and amuse those around him. Lostwithiel had been reluctant at first and had continued with his sword and archery training behind his mother's back. He didn't want to hurt her and he really did want to obey her wishes, but the path of the soldier was still the one that appealed to him most.

But then, one day, while on patrol in the forest, she had been bitten and poisoned by one of the giant spiders. She was brought home, dying, on a litter. She had held his hand and whispered: "I know what you have been doing, 'Thiel, but, I beg you to consider being a courtier and not one of Thranduil's guards." After that, he had felt obliged to follow her wishes.

And so, for hundreds of years, he had been one of Thranduil's most popular courtiers. He had promised his mother that this was what he would do and he was determined to do it well. He was close to Thranduil who was almost as a father to him after the death of his parents and he also got on well with Thranduil's son, Legolas, although he always felt pangs of envy whenever he saw the young warrior go out on patrol. But the people at court enjoyed his singing and his poetry and laughed at his witty tongue and he had to be content with the thought that, in elven culture, such skills were just as much valued as an ability with sword and bow.

But, he thought, you can't carry on for hundreds of years doing something you don't want to do without a part of your nature going awry. His poetry became less lyrical, his singing harsher and his tongue more malicious. But those around him were still much amused and so he made no effort to change things.

His mother had hoped that he would eventually find the love of a good elven woman, a love that would offer him support and be there for him when his parents no longer were. But the love of elves was a slow and late-growing thing and Lostwithiel had felt no strong emotion for any other elf down the long years.

Once, when a friend had finally become betrothed after two thousand years, Lostwithiel had asked him out of curiosity to explain what he meant when he talked about "love". The friend had to agree that it had been a very strange experience. "I have never felt this kind of love or physical attraction before," he mused, "but, when I met Selbereth, it was as though I had walked into a room and someone had lit a bright lamp. My life feels bathed in light and I have no desire to return to the dark. I am drawn to her brilliant flame. I cannot back away from her, nor do I want to. That's the only way I can describe the desire I feel for her."

Lostwithiel had not really understood. "You've got to experience it," his friend had said. "It's a good feeling, but it also teeters on the edge of pain because every part of my body yearns for her."

Well, the elf lord wasn't so sure he wanted that and so was quite happy to continue on his way without it. He did, however, for some time look around himself to see if any of the elven women lit the light for him but none of them had that effect.

He delighted in beauty and so began to sort the ladies that he met at court into boxes, labelling them QB (Quite Beautiful), VB (Very Beautiful) and EB (Extremely Beautiful). Then he concentrated on those that he had labelled EB. He danced with them, he chatted with them in quiet corners, he wrote them poetry and sang them songs – and then he stood back and carefully waited for the special light. But it never happened.

However, perhaps this was because the light never came on for them either and it needed two to create this "love" thing. And so, he next tried honing his ability to seduce and allure. In this, he was more successful. A reasonable number of the ladies at the court found him charming and became flirtatious. But Lostwithiel felt nothing. Perhaps I have a stone for a heart, he thought, and he wondered if there had been some irreparable damage caused by the deaths of his parents at an early age. Perhaps he had learned that, if you loved something, it would be taken from you so it was best not to love in the first place.

One of the EB elves was Tauriel, a fine soldier who eventually became Thranduil's captain of the guard. She was very popular and, it was said, even Thranduil had considered marrying her after his wife had died. His friend, Legolas, was a child at the time and was very disappointed when she hadn't become his step-mother. But there had remained a strong bond between Tauriel, the king and his son. Well, Lostwithiel had thought, if she's good enough for Thranduil, perhaps she's good enough for me and he had danced and chatted with her a few times. But, no light came on as usual.

Lostwithiel had had one final, deliberate go at finding love. When a group of elves from Rivendell had visited Mirkwood, he was drawn to one called Lorrien. She was pretty and lively and kind and, when he found his interest piqued, he wondered if he could intensify the vague affection he had developed for her and change it into love. And so, he had pursued her. He sought her out at the evening feasts and sat next to her; he claimed nearly every dance; he followed her in the gardens and in the woods, reciting poetry and singing songs; he made her laugh.

Her friends giggled in groups around her, telling her that Lostwithiel must be in love with her and she blushed. She was very flattered and decided that she was in love with him too. And so, one night, when he took her for a moonlit walk under the trees, she had gone with him willingly and had eventually lifted her face for a kiss.

Nothing, he felt nothing.

He tried kissing her more deeply and ran his fingers through her silken hair and pressed his body hard against her. She responded with some passion but, instead of feeling any physical attraction, he felt vaguely repulsed by her searching tongue and her clinging hands. He couldn't help himself. He pushed away from her and she saw the faint look of disgust turning down the corner of his mouth. She hesitated a moment and then ran away, crying. And that was the last occasion that Lostwithiel tried to find love for a long time.

.o00o.

Pt II

The elves had traded with the Men of Dale but had maintained a typically cold distance from the dwarves of the Lonely Mountain. When Smaug had come and had driven the dwarves out of the area, the elves had offered no help, not even to the desperate refugees, and had even felt quite pleased that the dwarves were forced to go elsewhere. They had continued to trade with the Men once they had rebuilt their new home of Lake Town and had even helped them a little with its reconstruction. Then all had been quiet for some period of time.

The exiled dwarves were trouble-makers, of course, and had stirred up so much aggravation with the orcs and goblins that a ferocious war had finally broken out between them. In desperation, they had asked the elves for help again but, the attitude of Thranduil had been: they started it, so why should we go to their aid? The dwarves had finally won but at a terrible cost to themselves. The Mirkwood elves, however, had benefited because the orcs in their area had been almost utterly destroyed. Thranduil had just shrugged and felt no gratitude. Such advantages were just the spoils of war.

Then, one evening, there was a bit of excitement at the court. A party of dwarves had been captured trying to make their way through Mirkwood. Rumour had it that they had tried to attack the elves but had been knocked unconscious by the power of the magic circle with which they usually protected themselves.

Tauriel and her men had brought them in and now the main group was locked up in one dungeon whilst their leader was being kept separately on the floor below. Thranduil took Lostwithiel with him to inspect the leader who was chained up in the guard room, still unconscious.

The elf was more than a little curious because, although dwarves were often discussed, this was the first time he had seen one. He wasn't quite sure what he expected but it wasn't this. He supposed he had always imagined a dwarf to be a funny little fellow, very squat and with a long, white beard tucked into his belt. But this dwarf, lying sprawled on the floor, was about the same height as Tauriel, had a short, neatly trimmed beard, long, black hair, braided before the ears, and was very muscular and well-built. All that smithing, I suppose, he thought. But, the most surprising thing of all was that he was very good-looking with strong, well-defined features. Not good-looking in the way of elves who were willowy, beautiful creatures, but very masculine, like a handsome, striking Man. Yes, "masculine" would define him if he was being fair, thought Lostwithiel, but he was also revolted by this masculinity because it seemed brutal, raw, barbaric and at the opposite end of the spectrum to what elves were. And Lostwithiel gave a delicate shudder.

"I've removed his weapons and his mail," said Tauriel.

"Good," said Thranduil. "Now strip him of everything except his shirt and breeches. I want him feeling vulnerable. See what you can get out of him. I'll interview him in an hour."

As they ascended the stairs to the throne room, Lostwithiel asked Thranduil what he thought the dwarves were doing in Mirkwood.

"I have no idea," said Thranduil, "but, I am more than certain that they are up to no good and I feel it's important to get the truth out of them."

An hour later, the dwarven leader was dragged into the hall with his hands bound ignominiously behind him. But, he held himself arrogantly, his vivid blue eyes flashing, and immediately demanded that Thranduil tell him of the whereabouts of his men. Thranduil's eyes flashed too and, when he also set his head at an icy and arrogant tilt, Lostwithiel could see that they were about to get nowhere with their prisoner. When the dwarf compressed his lips and refused to say anything to explain their presence in Mirkwood, Thranduil lost his temper and he was taken away to think about things in a dungeon, "for a hundred years if necessary."

Well, it hadn't been quite a hundred years but only a few days and then the dwarves had escaped with Tauriel in hot pursuit. This was just about the most exciting thing that had happened in a long time, Lostwithiel had thought. And then she posted back the most startling news: their erstwhile prisoner had been Thorin Oakenshield, King under the Mountain, and he intended to defeat Smaug and claim the treasure as his own.

Thranduil had been furious! "Some of that treasure belongs to the elves," he snarled. And he began to gather together an army. He wanted volunteers from amongst his courtiers as well as his regular troops and an intrigued Lostwithiel had finally broken his promise to his mother and had stepped up to the mark. He didn't expect much fighting – not against 13 dwarves, anyway – and the elven force was obviously only intended to be used for its powers of intimidation.

There followed some of the worst moments of Lostwithiel's already long life. When they got to the Long Lake, the good news had been that the dragon was dead; the bad news was that Lake Town was destroyed and the dwarves were holding out in their Mountain against all comers. Men, elves and dwarves were at each other's throats and were preparing to do battle over the treasure when a massive army of goblins, orcs and wargs arrived and the true fight began.

Lostwithiel blinked back the tears and stared blindly into the sea fog as he remembered it. So many dead! They had been overwhelmed but, at the critical moment, he had heard a great shout, and Thorin Oakenshield and his men had come thundering out of the Mountain and, his heart lifting, Lostwithiel had joined the surge of elves and men who had rallied to his side. No time to think about whether he liked dwarves or not: there is one I could follow, he had thought, and follow him they all did.

That had not been the end of things, but, at last, the allies had won the day, although Thorin was carried wounded off the battlefield, with his nephews dead and he himself not expected to live. As the dwarf recovered, Dain of the Iron Hills dealt justly with Men and Elves and Thranduil went home well contented with his share of the treasure.

It was some months later that an odd incident had happened. Thorin suddenly arrived at the palace of Mirkwood, accompanied by Tauriel who had been left behind to help nurse him. The elves had politely applauded him, remembering his courage before the Gate. But then he had announced that Dain was now king and that he was returning to his forge in Ered Luin. Tauriel had had a few quiet words with Thranduil and then she had disappeared too.

Thranduil had kept her shocking secret from most of his court, sharing it only with a trusted few, including Lostwithiel. The elf had been appalled! Tauriel was betrothed to the dwarf. His revulsion at the thought almost made him physically sick. He would lie in bed at night, thinking about it. How could she? Not only was she going to marry someone from a race that had long been regarded as Other, not even created by the Lord Iluvatar, but she professed to love him and when he thought of the physical contact that had probably already happened between them, he was repulsed.

As the days went past, the elf found himself thinking more, not less, about things and the image of Thorin and Tauriel being intimate together became more and more vivid in his mind's eye. He wanted to blot it out but he couldn't and the worst thing was, he was beginning to imagine himself in Thorin's place.

.o00o.

Pt III

Not too long after this, Thranduil was invited to the Grey Havens to discuss some trouble in the North. He took a good part of his court with him and Lostwithiel was pleased to be among them. He hadn't visited the Grey Havens in a long time and, although it was a weary journey, he felt in need of distraction. But when they got there, he discovered that Thorin and Tauriel were visiting too. When Thranduil found out, he sent them an invitation to a great feast he was holding before they set out for Mirkwood again.

"Do you really think this is a good idea?" asked Lostwithiel. "Now everyone will know of their betrothal."

Thranduil sighed. "I think it may be for the best," he said. "People will have to get used to it in the end and perhaps it's sensible that they find out in my presence where I can protect her." He pulled a face. "I reacted badly when she first told me, you know. I was so shocked, I was very cruel. I need to make it up to her if I can. And, Lostwithiel," he added, "I want you to help me out by being nice to Thorin."

Well, Lostwithiel knew that that would prove difficult, but he bowed his head in agreement and, when the couple turned up at Thranduil's palace, he could see that they certainly needed help. Thorin was the only dwarf present and, as the elves registered what their relationship had become and saw the betrothal rings dangling at their necks, the atmosphere became icy. Thranduil sat Tauriel at his side and made it clear that she was still his favourite person. But Thorin was ignored and left in a dark corner with his cup of wine.

The group of elves that Lostwithiel was seated with expressed their disgust and wondered if there were any way to break up the relationship. Surely if the two knew how everyone felt, they would realise that they just couldn't go through with the marriage?

"Yes," he said to his fellow courtiers, "I've known about this for some time. I felt it was vile when Thranduil first told me and I still think it's vile months later. Perhaps we should let Tauriel know how we feel."

They had agreed to this and, when the feast moved away from the tables and they began to chat in small groups, three of the courtiers approached Tauriel and began to be provocative, leering and making suggestive remarks until Thranduil interrupted and came to her rescue. Lostwithiel had been watching Thorin, brooding in the corner, and he suddenly realised that the dwarf was jealous of Thranduil. He eased himself across the room and sat down next to him. The elf was charm itself and Thorin seemed relieved that there was at least one person in the room who was prepared to talk to him. But, in amongst the pleasantries, Lostwithiel dropped some seeds of doubt and managed to imply that Tauriel was in love with Thranduil. He laughed to himself as he saw his seemingly casual remarks take hold. And, when Thorin hustled his betrothed out the door, he grinned at his companions. "I think we've made progress," he said.

And, on their way back to Mirkwood two days later, Tauriel had joined them as they passed the forge at the crossroads. She had left him! Or rather, as they discovered later, he had left her. And Lostwithiel felt triumphant.

He had kept away from Tauriel on the journey home, his triumph marred by a faint sense of guilt. They had rested for some time at Rivendell and, to his relief, she decided to stay on there. As they rode away, he had asked Thranduil why she had made this decision. "She's pregnant," the elven king had said shortly. "And I would prefer it if you kept that to yourself."

The old sense of revulsion returned. The pregnancy confirmed her intimacy with the dwarf. All the time he had been able to think that perhaps they were keeping themselves chaste until their actual marriage, he had managed to hold the images at bay. But, now he knew the truth and again he lay awake at night trying not to think of the slender elf in the arms of the husky dwarf. His imagination ran riot even though he was chaste himself and knew very little of what might actually have happened between them. In fact, that made things worse because his ignorant imaginings were a hundred times more lurid as a result of it.

But, it was two more years before Thorin and Tauriel were brought to his attention again. Thranduil summoned him and lay a hand upon his shoulder. "I'm worried about you, Lostwithiel," he said. The king had noticed that, since their return to Mirkwood, the elf's clever, witty humour that had entertained so many had gradually taken an ever more malicious and bitter turn. His beautiful songs and finely-wrought poems had become satirical and seemed to concentrate on the short-comings, lusts and follies of dwarves. Many of the elves laughed heartily but others were concerned that, now that they interacted more with the dwarves of the Lonely Mountain, these rude verses would come to the ears of Dain and there would be trouble.

"I think," said Thranduil, "that you must be feeling a bit bored." And he suggested that Lostwithiel go to the Grey Havens as an envoy for him. "The orcs are beginning to mount raids in the area," he said. "And I want you to stay there for as long as you are needed."

Lostwithiel felt quite excited at the idea but, just as he left, the elven king gave him a bundle of letters and a mysterious package. "One of the letters is for Tauriel," he explained, "and the package contains a number of toys for her son."

The elf blinked – he had imagined that Tauriel was still at Rivendell. It was only then that Thranduil told him that Thorin had gone after the beautiful captain of the guard and that they were now married and living at the forge in Ered Luin. For a moment, Lostwithiel's stomach lurched and he felt like refusing the task of envoy. But, he had swallowed hard and had taken the two bundles from Thranduil. The king looked him in the eyes as if he understood more than he was letting on. "Good man," he said, patting him on the shoulder. And the elf lord had set out for the forge at the crossroads.

He finally arrived at Thorin's Hall early one morning and knocked loudly on the door. After a few minutes, a dishevelled and glowering Thorin with his shirt and breeches hastily and untidily pulled on, answered the door. With an effort, Lostwithiel adopted a pleasant and jocular smile, announcing his errand, and the dwarf, somewhat reluctantly, let him in. And the moment he stepped over the threshold, he understood the dwarf's reluctance as an equally dishevelled Tauriel stepped out of the bedroom, a silk robe cast casually around her slender form.

But, of course, they had been in bed together and he had obviously interrupted something. The old images came flashing back again but he covered up his discomfort with a charming smile. She looked pleased to see him, but Thorin grumpily ordered her back into the bedroom to get changed.

In many ways, he had spent a pleasant hour or so at the forge. Tauriel cooked breakfast and showed off her child, Arion, who was very beautiful. Well, what had he expected? A monster? Thorin proudly took him on a tour of his new hall which had many delightful elven features but the gorge rose in his throat again when he entered the bedroom to find the exquisitely carved bed still unmade. It was a reminder of what had so recently happened here and he turned away quickly. He needed to get out of the Hall and away from the dwarf. He could almost see what it was that had attracted Tauriel but it seemed abnormal and Thorin's base, animal magnetism revolted him.

The following day, he attended a meeting with Gandalf and a number of other elf lords and, somehow, he found himself volunteering – even against his mother's wishes - to be part of a small group who would man an outpost in the foothills of the Blue Mountains. Tauriel would do the initial training and be their captain and Gandalf chose him to be her second-in-command. He felt in his gut that he was heading for some kind of confrontation with her but, in a weird way, he welcomed it.

.o00o.

Pt IV

Those first two weeks up at the outpost had been two of the happiest of his life. He had felt like a lonely outsider ever since his parents' death and finally he was becoming part of a community. For a few days, the new recruits had been rather sullen, annoyed at the way that Tauriel bossed them around. But then they began to enjoy each other's company and also began to appreciate their captain's methods. In fact, for the first time in their idle lives, they started to feel useful. And, at last, Lostwithiel was doing what he had always wanted to do. The troop found they had developed a huge admiration for Tauriel – and that included Lostwithiel. Without Thorin there to remind him of what she got up to in her spare time, he began to like her as a person and admire her as his commanding officer. In fact, a little light began to flutter on and off and that rather worried him. His feelings for her had begun to go down an unwelcome path.

Perhaps nothing would have come of things if Thorin had stayed away. But, after two weeks, he suddenly appeared carrying newly-forged swords and, for a few hours, became involved in their training. Lostwithiel had realised from their first day at the outpost that the others seemed totally unaware that their captain was married to a dwarf. He guarded her secret and wondered at what point he should reveal this fascinating fact and whether or not he could use it to his advantage. After two weeks, he was reluctant to damage her reputation and had decided that, if anyone told them, it would have to be Tauriel herself.

And then Thorin had turned up.

No-one had realised he was Tauriel's husband and Lostwithiel still kept quiet as the dwarf became a surprising hit with the men.

But, after training, Thorin had disappeared off into Tauriel's office with her and Lostwithiel began to feel differently. The fluttering light flashed on for one blinding moment and the elf experienced a burst of sexual jealousy for the first time in his life. In fact, he hardly recognised it for what it was. He could guess what the two of them were doing in her office/bedroom and he wanted to leap into the room and drag them apart. He thought about it and an erotic charge ran through him. And then he turned to the rest of the men and said: "Of course, you do know that's our captain's husband and you can guess what they're probably up to in her bedroom?"

The disgust had been palpable and Lostwithiel experienced a momentary feeling of satisfaction. All the affection and good will for Tauriel evaporated in a split second and, that evening, long after Thorin had gone home with no more than a kiss, they all managed to make her life a misery. She had gone to bed early, looking sad and tired, whilst Lostwithiel and Borondin stood on guard duty in the trees just beyond the farmhouse. Plenty of time for him to think, of course.

And he really did think.

He conjured up a powerful image of a naked and beautiful Tauriel in bed with the strapping dwarf, both doing loathsome things together. He imagined her dark and secret desires and thought about his own. He wondered if she was the sort to be a willing partner of any man, dwarf or elf and decided that there was something corrupt about her. Then he quietly climbed through her open bedroom window, took off his clothes and got into bed with her.

She was deeply asleep and, as he wrapped her in his arms, she stirred and murmured Thorin's name. He had kissed her then, sucking her lower lip into his mouth. And then he had had the urge to bite her and, of course, that's when she had woken up. It had all ended badly with Tauriel punching him and breaking his beautiful nose and ordering him back out of the window and into the coming dawn. That was just the beginning, however, of a very, VERY bad day when they had both been captured by orcs.

Thorin had come to the rescue, the three of them had put up a very good fight and Tauriel had forgiven him.

But the guilt had been a heavy burden and he had had an overwhelming urge to confess to the dwarf who, over a period of time, had gradually become his friend. He wasn't quite sure how this had come about, but slowly and silently the dwarf had edged his way into his heart. In the end, one drunken night at the forge, he had told Thorin everything. What had he expected? That the dwarf would take him in a bear hug and say that everything was fine? Or did he expect the dwarf to beat him up? In fact, had he WANTED the dwarf to beat him up as a right and proper punishment? Well, the beating had been meted out and they had both moved on from there – sort of. The light always flickered when Tauriel came into the room. And then, years later, it had flickered briefly for Rose, her adopted daughter, and finally it had flared up for Poppy, her younger daughter, and, at last, he knew true love and true passion.

But, after that beating, there had still been a long and rocky road as he negotiated his relationship with Thorin. He had worked hard at it, even when Thorin teetered on the edge of rejecting him again and again. He had saved the dwarf's life; he had sought out his company; he had openly shown his admiration for his skills; he had defended him from the sort of odium that he himself had displayed when first they met; he had expressed a desire to be part of his family; he had married his daughter, for goodness' sake! And yet, still there was that distance between them as Thorin held him at arm's length.

The years seemed long after the departure of Thorin and Tauriel to the Undying Lands. And the War of the Ring was a cruel and anxious time for all of them. Rose died in its wake and, when Telbarad moved to Gondor with his family, there no longer seemed a reason for them to stay in Middle-earth. Lostwithiel and Poppy stood on the balcony of their beautiful town house in the Grey Havens and listened to the cry of the gulls. "They're calling us into the West," he smiled.

.o00o.

"Are we nearly there?" said a beautiful young woman who had come up on deck and who now slid her hand into the crook of his arm.

"Can't see a thing, Rosie," he replied, "but I suppose we must be."

She rested her head on his shoulder and he kissed her pretty hair.

Then his wife, Poppy, and her brother, Arion, came up from their cabins and leaned on the railing with him, staring hard through the swirling fog; and he put his arm about Poppy's waist and drew her possessively to him. She looked up and smiled at him, pressing a kiss to his smooth cheek.

"Look, father!" said Rosie and the sea mists were finally parted by a shaft of sunlight which pierced the gloom. And as the fog lifted to reveal a glorious blue morning, they could see the white sands of a beautiful beach and the stone walls of the harbour mouth and there were Thorin and Tauriel, waiting for them.

"They're here, 'Thiel," cried Poppy, her eyes shining with joy. "We've come home." And he hugged her and knew that what she said was true. Perhaps he no longer had such a long way to go in his long life after all. He had arrived in the Undying Lands at last and he had come home to Thorin and Tauriel along with Arion and Poppy and Rosie. The dwarf and the elf were waiting to embrace him and he knew their love at last. The harbour quay seemed bathed in sunlight and, hand in hand with his daughter, he walked joyfully down the gangplank to meet them.

.o00o.

Post-Postscript:

The last ship from the Grey Havens had docked, its passengers had disembarked and joy had overflowed for many that night.

"Promise me just one thing, Thorin," said Tauriel, as he rested, breathing heavily above her, after a happy and enthusiastic bout of love-making.

"What's that, my love?" he rumbled in his dark, rich voice. And his blue eyes gazed searingly at her from under black eyelashes as he carefully propped himself up on his arms and wriggled contentedly between the thighs of his beautiful wife. "You want me to be nice to Lostwithiel? Or perhaps you don't want me to lose my temper with Poppy or spoil my new granddaughter, Rosie?"

She shook her head and giggled.

"Or I mustn't spend too much time, then, discussing smithing techniques with Gimli? Or smoke too much pipe-weed with Bilbo? Or give Thranduil lectures on why it's inappropriate to kiss my wife?"

Tauriel laughed and shook her head again. "You'd never win in a guessing game, would you?" she whispered and she brushed her lips across his broad chest.

"Tell me, then," he said softly as he lowered his head and gently bit her ear.

"Promise me that you'll never cut off these plaits," she said and Thorin gave a snort of laughter.

"Why is that?" he asked. And an innocent grin spread across his handsome face.

In answer, she wound the braids tightly about her fists and once more pulled her willing husband down upon her breast.

.o00o.

The Absolute End!

It has been a long journey and reviews are appreciated.


	35. Chapter 35 What the!

ALL ABOUT THORIN

My story about Thorin is finished, all over, complete, done with…isn't it?

And so, what is this? You may well ask, LOL!

.o00o.

What the….?!

Pt I

The day after the last ship had arrived in the Undying Lands, the Oakenshields gathered together for breakfast. Poppy and Lostwithiel had slept in the guest bedroom, Arion had made up a comfortable bed for himself in the stable whilst Rosie had dragged a spare mattress, sheets and pillows to a cosy spot in front of the sitting-room fire. "Just like my Aunt Rose did when she first arrived at grandfather's forge," she said. "I've been told all the stories."

That happy morning, Thorin and Lostwithiel were in the kitchen making breakfast so that the ladies had time for another extensive chat, whilst Arion got out his laptop to have a check on what was happening next.

"No! I don't believe it!" he exclaimed in a shocked voice. Lostwithiel nearly dropped the plates he was carrying to the table, the women stopped talking and looked up with startled eyes and Thorin emerged from the kitchen, frowning and wiping his hands on a towel.

"What is it?" he rumbled in deep, concerned tones.

Arion looked up, his eyes wide. "She's stopped writing about us…..The story's finished."

"No," gasped Poppy. "I don't believe it. Let me have a look!" And she tore the laptop from his grasp.

"It's true!" she shrieked after a few tense moments.

"Wait! Don't panic yet! Check out that other forum," murmured Tauriel, trying to sound reassuring. Poppy tapped away but, in a very short time, she could only confirm their worst fears: their story had come to an end.

Arion picked up a mug and flung it in disgust across the room so that it shattered against the wall. No-one reprimanded him because they all felt like doing the same thing.

"So, what happens next?" asked Rosie, looking rather frightened.

"Nothing!" shouted Arion. "There is no next!"

Tauriel put an arm about her granddaughter and hoped that it felt comforting. But Rosie wailed and wrung her hands: "But I don't understand. It's not as if we're dead or as if we've stopped."

"No," sighed her father, "but nothing will happen to us ever again. Go to the door."

Rosie went to the front door and, opening it, stared for a moment. Then she turned back to her family. "But what am I supposed to be looking at? Nothing's changed."

"That's just the point," said Tauriel quietly. "The early morning sun will continue to shine. Night will never come. The harbour you can see in the distance will always look the same and the leaves will never change colour and fall from the trees."

"Lucky it's not raining," snarled Arion, "or that we're not up to our necks in snow."

"Small mercies," muttered 'Thiel.

They all walked outside and Thorin gestured to Arion and Rosie: "Climb the hill behind the house and tell me what you see." The others stood there dismally until the two came hurrying back down again looking confused and shocked.

"There's nothing. Absolutely nothing," said Arion.

"What do you mean by nothing?" put in Lostwithiel.

"Nothing. A void. A blackness. Everything just stops. Nothing exists over there." Arion looked frustrated as he tried to explain and Rosie started to cry.

"I guessed as much," sighed Thorin. "Whatever she didn't mention or describe in one of her stories just doesn't exist."

"And what about all the friends we've made here in the past 40 years?" asked Tauriel suddenly.

"Only those who got a mention still exist; but those who didn't, don't….if you see what I mean. People like Thranduil, Legolas, Gimli, Frodo, Bilbo and Tauriel's troop are all down there in the harbour, resting from their journey." Then he nodded to the elven tree houses just below them. "And that lot got into one of the stories so they'll still be there. But, otherwise….." And he tailed off despondently.

"It could be worse," said Poppy. "Thank goodness she set part of her saga here otherwise we might be completely alone in an island of nothingness." And she shuddered.

Thorin sent Lostwithiel off to check out their friends who had stayed overnight in the harbour area after disembarking and Tauriel popped down the road to the elven settlement. They both came back with a similar story: their two sets of friends were sitting around feeling as stunned as they were, hoping for a bit of leadership. "I'm afraid they think that you should take control, Thorin," said Tauriel. "After all, the story does centre on you."

"That's what the others say too," added Lostwithiel. "The story's All About Thorin and so they seem to think that you should come to the rescue."

"Yes, father" said Arion indignantly. "It was always too much about you. One of the story's followers said she wanted to hear more about me. She thinks I'm very attractive and a badass. But, I'm not even married yet and I know nothing about – umm – intimate relations. That's really mean. How shall I find out about that now?" And he tossed his long, black locks back from his handsome face.

"Well," grunted Lostwithiel, "that same follower didn't like MY character. That's because I was forced to do an unpleasant thing near the beginning of the story and some people never got over it."

"I knew it!" said Poppy with a gleam in her eye. "I knew you were keeping something from me! 'Fess up! I think we'd all like to know what this dreadful thing was."

"Not now, dear," said the elf, shuffling his feet and looking guilty, whilst Thorin threw him a grumpy stare and Tauriel looked anxious.

Poppy's eyes darted from one to the other, not missing a thing. "You were in love with my mother!" she crowed, giving him a hard dig in the ribs. "I'm sure it was something like that. Just look at my father's face!"

"That's disgusting!" gasped Arion, looking at them with his mouth open.

"More disgusting than you might imagine," muttered Thorin under his breath.

"Now, just stop it! All of you!" snapped Tauriel. "These are private matters and no one else's concern. We've got more important things to bother us at the moment." And they all shut up and looked glum again.

Thorin came out of a reverie and suddenly said: "Right, I've got it!" and marched back into the house. The others followed him hopefully. They found him sitting up to the table with the laptop open in front of him. "Well," he announced, "if SHE won't continue with the story then I suppose we'll have to write some more ourselves." And he quickly googled the fanfic site.

First of all, they had to join the site. "What name shall we log on with?" the dwarf asked. This took at least half an hour as names were suggested and rejected. In the end, they decided on ThorinsCo since it included all of them. "And what shall we call our story?" asked Rosie who had been sitting quietly, listening politely to everyone else.

They decided that the name had to be similar to the original so that people would notice the connection and carry on with the new saga once they had finished the old one.

"How about: All About Thorin…and Everyone Else?" asked Thorin and, since he was in charge and they just wanted to get on with things, they all agreed.

"We can always come back and change it later," whispered Arion to Rosie, "if we think it's not catchy enough."

Thorin sat with his fingers poised above the keyboard. "Right," he said, turning to Arion, "since you're grumbling about not featuring enough in the stories, we'll start off with one about you. You'll meet someone absolutely fabulous and have lots of sex."

"No-o-o-ooo!" wailed Arion.

"What's wrong now?" asked Thorin, beginning to lose his patience. "It's what you want, isn't it?"

"Yes," laughed Poppy. "But I don't think he wants his father writing about his sex life."

"Harrumph," growled Thorin, clearing his throat. "I suppose he's got a point. I wouldn't want him to write about me and his mother either, come to think about it."

"By Mahal, no!" exclaimed their son.

"No," laughed Tauriel. "In a story written by Arion, we'd sleep in separate beds and never touch one another."

"Too true," Arion muttered. "I think you two appear to have had enough sex to last through a million stories." His parents looked at each other grinning, and then leaned over to kiss each other.

"Don't! Just don't" winced Arion, putting a hand in front of his eyes.

"I think you've fathered a prude, Thorin," laughed Tauriel, squeezing her husband's hand. "He obviously doesn't take after you."

"Stop it!" roared Arion, his pointed ears turning pink.

Thorin finally stopped his teasing and said that a serious issue had been raised. "I suppose we ought to choose which of us should write about whom."

"Well," said Lostwithiel, "it would appear that a close familial tie puts the dead hand on things. But that only leaves me as a non-blood relative."

"And I wouldn't want you either," growled Thorin. "Knowing you, I'd get some slash/elf-on- dwarf action. Who would you choose? Thranduil?"

"Oh, that's an idea," mused Lostwithiel. "Never thought of that. Were you in chains while you were in his dungeons? There's an image to conjure with."

"Stop it!" yelled Arion again. "This is a really inappropriate conversation. And," he said, "turning towards the elf, "if that's the sort of idea you're likely to come up with, I don't think I want you writing about me either."

"So, who's it to be?" sighed Thorin.

"I'll do it, if you like," said Rosie quietly.

"You!" said Arion. "What would a young girl like you know about love and sex?"

"More than you might think" she replied pertly. "You don't grow up with a load of soldiers without picking up a few things, you know."

"Goodness!" blinked Poppy. Then turning to her mother she snapped: "And when you see that troop of yours next, I hope you have a few words with them – corrupting a young girl!"

"I'm not so young," sighed Rosie, "and they didn't corrupt me. They just grew to be sort of – relaxed in their conversation when I was around. And," she added, trying to change direction, "I've written a lot of stories in my spare time."

"You have?" said Thorin, looking at her with interest. "There's a clever girl! You'll have to let me read them sometime."

"No way," laughed Rosie. "You might be shocked and look at me in a really different way if you did. And I'm glad you won't find out what I've got planned for Uncle Arion either. At least he's the only one who gets to know because he'll be the one to experience it."

Arion was standing there with a furrowed brow. "Don't look so worried," reassured Rosie. "It will be a lovely, romantic story involving a beautiful girl from another world and another time who has got a horrible stepfather and who has been badly bullied. But, after she is transported here, she finds happiness and love at last."

"No-o-o-ooo!" they all yelled in unison. "Not a Mary Sue!"

"I don't care what you call it," Rosie said huffily. "It will be a really lovely story and I promise you that Arion will be happy with it."

"Well," grumbled Arion, "I suppose I'll have to trust you. It'll doubtless be better than anything the rest of them can come up with. But I think that you ought to write about the romance and then I'll take over and write about the sex."

"Excellent idea!" said Thorin. "Whenever a story about any of us begins to get a bit personal, that's when we butt in and write a paragraph of our own."

"What! Only a paragraph, Thorin?" grinned Lostwithiel.

"Well, perhaps a page or so, then," grinned Thorin back.

Arion cast his eyes up again.

"Good!" said Rosie, rolling up her sleeves. "Now, just pass me that laptop, grandfather! And all of you go back to bed. You're about to wake up and set out on a story!"

.o00o.

Pt II

All About Thorin…and Everyone Else

Arion's Story

It was a beautiful, sunny morning. Thorin was the first up and into the kitchen where he started to make breakfast for everyone…..

_("Here, wait a minute," said Thorin. "These stories usually start with me and Tauriel in bed together. Let me have the laptop."_

_"Alright," grumbled Rosie, "but make it a short one."_

_Thorin thought for a moment, grinned and restarted the story….)_

It was a beautiful, sunny morning. Thorin and Tauriel opened their eyes to greet the first day of their new lives together with their family in the Undying Lands. Tauriel stirred sleepily and slid a hand over the muscular chest of her extraordinarily handsome and majestic husband. There was probably no-one half as attractive for miles around and Tauriel felt very lucky that she had nailed someone as gorgeous and as beautiful (in a masculine way, of course) as Thorin. Now that he was in the Undying Lands, his good looks had actually improved and his dark, luxuriant hair was even more glorious. The elves always stared enviously at him whenever he passed by.

"That was a wonderful night, Thorin," she said. "I think you must be the best lover ever. Thank goodness I didn't finish up marrying someone like Thranduil or Lostwithiel - I bet that neither of them has your stamina. You're absolutely amazing. How many times did we do it last night?"

"I lost count," said Thorin, kissing her gently. "But I think there may be time to slip in another before I get up to make breakfast."

_("What a load of rubbish!" exclaimed Lostwithiel, peering over his shoulder. "What an ego! And all these odious comparisons! You're so full of yourself, Thorin, that you think you're the only one who knows anything about love and sex. You're making it up, aren't you, all this nonsense about how many times, blah, blah, blah? But, let me tell you, from my own experience….."_

_Thorin closed the laptop with a snap._

"_No, thank you very much! I'd rather not hear anything about your experiences with my daughter. Now, just go away! This is about me and Tauriel and nothing to do with anyone else!"_

_Tauriel opened up the laptop and had a quick sneak peek._

"_It all sounds good to me, Thorin," she said, giving his plait a tug. "Take no notice of him and carry on."_

_His family were all hovering around the table, trying to look casual and uninterested, but he shooed them away with a flick of his hand and continued….)_

Half an hour later, Thorin got up to make breakfast and, soon, Lostwithiel joined him in the kitchen. The elf looked rested and ready to meet the day. Looks as though he slept soundly through the night, thought Thorin. No hanky panky THERE then. He doesn't know what he's missed.

"Good night's sleep?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you," said Lostwithiel. "The bed was very comfortable. Slept like a log."

Thought so, Thorin grinned smugly to himself and got out the frying pan.

"One egg or two?"

_(Rosie snatched the laptop away. "I think you've written enough," said Rosie. This is my story." And she continued on with her adventure whilst Thorin went away whistling, pleased that he had put a spoke into Lostwithiel's love-life, at least for one night.)_

Thorin and Lostwithiel clattered around in the kitchen whilst Tauriel, Poppy and Rosie huddled over the teapot, just enjoying their time together. Arion made his way into the house from the stables and, selecting a couple of apples from a bowl, headed for the door again.

"Where are you off to, uncle Arion?" asked Rosie.

"Oh, I just thought I'd explore a bit, perhaps climb the hill behind the house and check out the view."

"Wait until I can make you a snack," said Tauriel. "There's a lovely lake just over the hill and you might feel tempted to walk further than you intend at the moment."

Five minutes later, Arion thrust a packet of sandwiches into a shoulder bag and set out to climb the rocky hill behind the house. This was a whole new world and he meant to explore every inch of it.

_("Good idea, Rosie," said Thorin. "The more territory you describe him seeing, the further our geographical borders will extend." And he patted her shoulder approvingly.)_

.o00o.

Mary Sue stared morosely at the old, abandoned gravel pit. It was a hot day, she was feeling miserable and she had hoped that some of her friends would be here. The pit, one among many on the western outskirts of London, was full of water and made an adequate swimming-hole for the local teenagers, although their parents were none too keen about it. "And don't you dare go near that gravel pit!" they would shout on summer days when their children went out to meet their friends.

"Of course we won't!" they would mutter back. But, of course, that's where they always all finished up. It was a good meeting-place, tucked away quietly near Shepperton Studios, but some distance from any housing and shaded by clumps of trees. The water always looked inviting but they knew that their parents' warnings were not empty threats: beneath the calm surface lurked rubbish and detritus, cast there by those who were too lazy to dump it in the appropriate place. And, once you entered the water, the ground sloped away beneath your feet very steeply and soon became very deep. Those who dared these waters had to be good swimmers if they didn't want to risk being drowned.

Mary Sue sighed and propped her bike against a tree. Where was everyone? She needed a friend right now. And she raised a hand to gingerly touch the tender bruise on her cheekbone. Last night had been similar to many previous nights. She had argued with her stepfather and it had finished up with him hitting her. He was a very violent man who had attacked both her and her mother but when she challenged her mother on this, she had just got angry with her and said that she loved him and that it was none of her business.

"If I leave him, I shall be all alone – and I'm not getting any younger. You'll soon be off to university – life is about to start for you. You'll move to the other side of the country and I'll see you only once in a blue moon. And, if I leave, what shall I do then? I'll die a lonely old divorcee."

There was no arguing with her: she was confident that her daughter was the catalyst for all their rows and, once she left home, things would be a lot better.

Mary Sue kicked off her sandals and paddled in the shallows. The water was cool and soothing that she suddenly had the urge to strip off all her clothes and go for a good swim. You had to go skinny-dipping here because, if you returned home with wet clothes, your parents would want to know why. Everyone understood the constraint and would politely turn their heads when anyone took off their clothes. But, conversely, everyone kept a close eye on all those in the water because they were aware of the dangers.

Unfortunately, today she was all alone. But, she was so fed up that she didn't care. And so, she undressed and folded her clothes neatly in a pile.

She edged into the water slowly. The gravel finally began to give under her feet as she entered deep water and she dived in. It was quite lovely at first but, in the end, she began to feel cold and she headed for the shore. Suddenly, her leg twisted with cramp. It was so agonising that she let her good foot down and began to feel for the bottom. But, it wasn't there and she started to panic as the cramp only increased.

Then her problems got worse as the leg she was thrashing around with under the water, seeking some kind of purchase, became entangled in what felt like a bundle of wire. The more she struggled, the more entangled she became and, finally, with a gasp of despair, she sank beneath the surface.

.o00o.

_("Mary Sue!" giggled Poppy, peeking over Rosie's shoulder. "You're not really going to call her that, are you?"_

_"Well," said Rosie, "since that's what you said my story was, that's what it will be. Now, go away!")_

His mother had been right: the lake was beautiful and he would like to go for a stroll around it before he returned home. When he reached the margins, he sat down and began to munch on a sandwich, admiring the prospect.

Suddenly, he saw something strange in the water, like seaweed. But even he knew that you don't get seaweed in a lake and he stood up to have a closer look. It trailed and floated in long tendrils not far from the shore and, as Arion stared, he suddenly realised that it wasn't seaweed but human hair. He splashed into the water and managed to grab a handful, dragging the attached body to the shallows. It was a young girl! And he thrust his hands under her armpits and pulled her onto the grass.

He blinked, both at the shock of his discovery and also because she was naked. He gulped and wanted to avert his gaze but he knew he had to help her and would need both eyes – and hands – for the job. He didn't know if she were dead or alive but he flipped her over onto her stomach and began to pump the water from her lungs. Quite quickly, much to his relief, she began to cough and splutter and he felt it was alright to turn her onto her side.

Arion found himself staring at her. She was small and delicate-looking with long, blond hair and a slender form. He blushed when she opened her eyes and caught him goggling and he looked around desperately for something to cover her with. Of course, there was nothing and so the only thing for it was to remove an item of his own clothing. He fumbled with the buttons of his shirt and finally tugged it frantically over his head. He placed it over her and was relieved to see that it stretched from neck to thigh.

"You're safe now," he managed to mutter in what he hoped was a reassuring voice. "I'll take you home to my parents and they'll look after you." He felt quite dazzled as he gazed into her beautiful eyes which were an unusual shade of violet-blue.

Mary Sue stared back at him. She was feeling very confused. The last thing she remembered was losing consciousness beneath the water of the gravel pit and feeling sure that she was drowning. And now, she had woken up by the side of a lake, a place she was quite confident that she didn't recognise, being gawped at by a very handsome young man. "Who are you?" she asked.

"Err….Arion. And you are?"

"Mary Sue," she croaked because her throat felt really raw. "How did I get here?"

He saw the confusion in her face and decided that he needed to get her back home as soon as possible. "Don't let's worry about that yet," he said. "I'm going to help you into my shirt and then I think we need to get you back to my home."

She stared down at herself and only then remembered that she had gone swimming with no clothes on. Her naked body was now covered by the young man's shirt and, as her eyes wandered briefly over his smooth chest, her mind paused momentarily to register that he was very fit. He was blushing violently and, rather than feeling embarrassed at her nakedness, her lips quirked slightly as she thought how sweet and shy he was. He helped her to sit up and then did his best to pull his shirt over her head whilst not looking at the same time. Quite a feat, she thought, and almost burst out laughing.

But, when she tried to stand, she had no strength and began to tremble with the effort. And so, Arion lifted her up in his strong arms and began the trek back home. Mary Sue felt warm and safe as she leaned with her head upon his broad chest and Arion, holding a girl in his arms for the first time in his life, was feeling more than a little odd.

_("Do you need me to take over yet, Rosie, with my more intimate thoughts about the way I am feeling with this girl in my arms, her head against my bare chest?"_

"_No, go away!" said Rosie. "We're still at the romantic stage. We don't want any rude thoughts intruding yet. I'll call you when I need you." And she shook her hand impatiently at him.) _

_Arion felt very protective as he gazed down at the lovely girl in his arms; and she was as light as a feather. Mind you, once he had climbed the hill from the lake and was beginning to struggle down the other side, he was feeling pretty tired. And so he was glad when he saw Thorin hurrying towards him. His father relieved him of his burden and Mary Sue found that she had yet another broad chest on which to rest her head._

"_What's happened here?" asked Thorin. And Mary Sue really enjoyed the rumbling vibration that echoed through her ear as Arion's father spoke in a deep baritone._

"_I found her drowning in the lake, father," replied Arion. "I have no idea who she is or where she's from and, at the moment, neither does she. I think she's in shock."_

_Thorin's long, powerful strides soon helped them to reach his forge and Tauriel came out to meet them. A strange girl lay with her eyes closed, nearly asleep on her husband's chest, and the elf gently pushed away a strand of wet hair from the girl's eyes._

"_Poor little thing!" she exclaimed softly. "What on earth has happened to her?"_

_Explanations were briefly given and they entered the house. _

.o00o.

Pt III

_("Have you got to the good bit yet?" asked Arion, tapping Rosie on the shoulder._

_"Oh, for goodness' sake, Arion," she replied. "You don't have to sound so desperate."_

_"Well, you might feel desperate too if you had waited as long as me to find out what goes on in the bedroom!"_

_Rosie laughed. "But, if you're waiting to find out these secrets, how are you going to write about it in the first place? Perhaps you would be better off asking grandfather to write that section."_

_"Ummm," said Arion, looking thwarted. "There's something in what you say but, like you, I also used to listen to the smutty talk up at the outpost. I'm sure I can cobble something together."_

_Rosie laughed even louder. "And so you want this important event in your life to be something that you've 'cobbled together' from the dirty jokes of a bunch of soldiers? And it's not as though many of them know what they're talking about either."_

_Arion looked glum and sighed. "I suppose I'd better have a father/son talk – which will be SO embarrassing." And he stomped out of the room.)_

_Thorin placed the girl on Rosie's mattress in front of the fire and pulled a blanket up to her chin. Then he went to make her a hot drink whilst Tauriel knelt by her side, holding her hand, and Arion hovered anxiously. Poppy, Rosie and Lostwithiel stood in a corner and watched wide-eyed._

_"Tell us about yourself, my dear," Tauriel asked gently, "and how you came to finish up in that lake."_

_Mary Sue looked at the beautiful woman with the strange, pointed ears who talked to her in such a kindly manner. "I don't know how I got here," she said. "I went swimming in a flooded gravel pit near my home just outside Shepperton. I got into difficulties and lost consciousness; then, when I came to, I was here, a place I just don't recognise….I feel so mixed up." And she began to cry._

_"Now look what you've done, mother," snapped Arion. "You've made her cry." He edged Tauriel out of the way and squeezed the girl's hand in sympathy._

_"It's all right. I'm here now," he said, and he kissed her forehead. "Just don't worry about anything. Everything will come back to you in the end and, in the meantime, you have us to care for you."_

_She gave him a sweet smile that pierced his heart and made him feel quite dizzy for a few moments. Thorin came back with a cup of tea and Arion helped her sit up and prop herself against his shoulder whilst he held the cup of tea to her lips. He wondered why he felt so nurturing. He had not had this feeling when Poppy was born: he certainly hadn't wanted to look after her but had found her presence an irritating burden. But he could have sat by Mary Sue's side and comforted her all day long._

_She dozed for a little after the tea whilst the rest of the family chatted quietly amongst themselves, discussing the best way forward._

_"Where do you think she ought to sleep?" asked Thorin._

_"Mmm, yes," answered Lostwithiel. "Poppy and I think she ought to have our room – for a bit of privacy, you know - and then we can go down the hill and ask the elves to put us up for a few days."_

_They all agreed that this was a good idea so Tauriel and Arion went off to get the room ready._

_"And put a shirt on," called Thorin after him, "and stop prancing around showing off that fine chest of yours!"_

_Arion flushed. He had totally forgotten about the shirt and wondered what the girl must think of him._

_Freshly attired, he helped his mother change the sheets in the guest bedroom._

_"I'm a bit worried about leaving her on her own," he confided. "It's a bit cut off from the rest of the house out here and she might be ill in the night. I don't mind sleeping on the floor but the others might not approve."_

_Tauriel smiled at her son's proprietorial manner over their new guest and felt a slight touch of excitement that Arion appeared so taken with a girl at last. Mary Sue seemed such a sweet young thing and her busy mother's mind was already leaping forward and imagining how she might fit in with the rest of the family. But she was also worried. Who was she? Where did she come from? She had never heard of her home, Sheppey Town, and it concerned her. She didn't want her son losing his heart to a girl who would suddenly disappear as quickly as she had come and yet she couldn't help but give Arion a bit of a prod._

_"Oh, don't worry, Arion. If Mary Sue doesn't mind then I'm sure that we won't. You're a good, trustworthy lad and we can see that she is already becoming attached to you. And, when your father was ill for days after the Battle of the Five Armies, I slept on a truckle bed for a week or more in his bedroom and no-one thought anything of it."_

_If his mother had told him about this a few hours earlier, before he had set out for the lake, he would have raised an eyebrow in disapproval. But now, the world seemed a different place, with a different set of rules._

_"Well," he said mildly, "I'm sure everyone thought that you and father were two upright people who knew better than to get up to mischief together."_

_Tauriel couldn't resist having a bit of a tease. "But, they would have been wrong," she grinned. "We had already slept with each other some weeks earlier."_

_She had finally provoked a shocked look. "Mother!" he said, turning pink. "I'm surprised at you….And I don't think I want to know these details! Father should be ashamed of himself."_

_Tauriel laughed. "It takes two you know – or perhaps you don't know." And she laughed even louder._

_"But you and father…..I've always thought of you as being…so good. And I've tried to live up to you both."_

_"We know you have, Arion," she said gently, touching his arm. "But, you know, sometimes you have to find your own way and make your own decisions." And she kissed him on the cheek. "Now, let's go and ask Mary Sue if she wants you sleeping on the floor of her room for a few nights and see what she says." _

_.o00o._

_("Father," said Arion to Thorin as he worked in his forge. "I need a serious chat with you."_

_"Oh, yes," said Thorin absently, hammering away. "What about?"_

_"Well, you know I've said I want to write my own paragraphs about – you know….?"_

_Thorin did know and guessed what was coming next. His hammering abruptly stopped. He cleared his throat and said: "Erm – anything you'd like to know, son, just ask."_

_And Arion certainly did ask. His desire to do right by Mary Sue was so overriding that he sat his father down and asked every single thing about sex he could think of and then he wanted every single excrutiatingly embarrassing detail. Strangely, it wasn't Arion who felt uncomfortable – he was just too excited about finding out what the fuss was all about at last – it was Thorin. His father tried to answer him as openly and candidly as possible but he squirmed at the exchanges that passed between them._

_"Well," said Arion, sitting back at last and grinning with satisfaction. "So, it's true what they say about you."_

_"And what's that?" asked Thorin._

_"That what you don't know about love isn't worth knowing."_

_"Do they really say that?" asked his father. And he smiled rather smugly into his beard.)_

_Mary Sue assured Arion that it would be very comforting if he slept in her room and no-one seemed shocked by the idea. He carried her to her new bed and then sat chatting with her whilst the rest of them drifted in and out, getting to know her and trying to work out how she had finished up in the lake. They made no progress and, in the end, Lostwithiel went down to the harbour to fetch back with him the wisest person they knew: Gandalf. He listened carefully to all the details of her experience and then finally drew a conclusion. They all sat around him, listening intently to his words._

_"I have to conclude that Mary Sue is not of our world," he said quietly. "She comes from a different place and a different time. Who knows how she got here or if she will ever return there again?"_

_They all looked serious and accepted what he had said without demur, including Mary Sue. Things were just too weird for her not to believe what Gandalf was saying. But, it was still a huge idea to absorb and she burst into tears. Arion put his arm around her and gave her a firm hug._

_"Don't worry," he said. "You must live with us and we shall help you find your way in our world."_

_She thanked him through her tears and, feeling his strong arm about her, felt absolutely and completely safe._

_.o00o._

_Pt IV_

_The first night that they shared the room together, they were both so tired that they fell asleep immediately and slept heavily. Mary Sue was the first to wake up in the morning and she looked for a long time at Arion as he lay on a bedroll on the floor. He was totally and utterly gorgeous. His black, curling locks, like his father's, fell halfway down his back. His features were not as strong as his father's: they were more delicate like those of his elven mother and very well-formed. His bare arm, which lay outside the coverlet, was powerful and muscular after all the activity and training up at the former outpost; and his body was lithe and graceful. Who wouldn't fall for such a man, especially since he was so sweet and kind too? Mary Sue wasn't afraid of these sudden and powerful feelings because she somehow knew that Arion felt the same way about her. The attraction had been immediate and mutual; moreover, his family was warm and welcoming and, in spite of all the strangeness of the past 24 hours, she was feeling a happy confidence in her future._

_She wondered what was happening back home. She could imagine that, when her clothes were found, divers would search the gravel pit. Then, perhaps, when there was no body, the police might conclude that the clothes were a red herring and that she had run away. She hoped that this is what her mother would think – that it would console her to believe that she was alive somewhere in the world, and perhaps she would live with the hope that her daughter would one day return._

_Then Arion woke up and his sleepy blue eyes locked with hers. "Good morning," he said._

_She was wearing a pretty but modest nightgown, given to her by Tauriel, and he helped her from her bed to a chair and brushed her hair for her. It was so beautiful, he thought. Now that it had dried, it was a silvery blond colour, a great mass but very fine. Then he left her to her ablutions whilst he went and made breakfast. Just as he had put this on a tray, she appeared at the door of the hall, wrapped in a borrowed robe, and had breakfast with the whole family. It was a very enjoyable experience for everyone._

_They all passed a quiet day together but she felt tired early in the evening and he helped her back to her room. He got undressed and into his own nightshirt, changing modestly behind a screen, and then he lay down on his bedroll. They talked easily to each other for a while and then Arion asked if she wanted to sleep, reaching up to turn off the bedside lamp._

_.o00o._

_("Right, that's it," said Arion, taking the laptop from Rosie. "I've waited long enough." She threw up her hands and gave over her chair to him._

_"Fair enough," she said with a grin. "It's all yours. Have a good time!")_

_"No, don't turn off the lamp yet," she said. "I'm thinking that you're looking very uncomfortable down on that floor."_

_"Well, yes, I am a bit," he replied with a wry smile, "but you're not to worry about it."_

_"Oh, but I am worrying," she laughed, and suddenly flung back the coverlet. "Come on," she said quietly. "You can share my bed."_

_.o00o._

_(__They had all been edging up behind Arion and were now peering over his shoulder. _

_"Go on," said Poppy breathlessly. "Don't stop now!"_

_"Yes," growled Thorin. "I'd like to know if all my tips worked out in the end."_

_"And I'd like to know," added Lostwithiel, "if Thorin's ideas on lovemaking are any better than mine. So, go on, finish the story!"_

_"And I wouldn't mind collecting together some suggestions for when it's my turn too," giggled Rosie. "So, why have you stopped?"_

_"I've stopped," said Arion with great dignity, "because it's none of your business."_

_"Awww, spoilsport," they all complained._

_"But," added Arion and they all looked up expectantly, "let it be said that we had a wonderful time together and I would like to thank my father for helping me through this difficult experience with all his top-notch advice."_

_"Yes," murmured Mary Sue, her eyes glowing, "we spent a marvellous night together. I can't tell you how much I already love this family but, I must admit," – and she bent over and kissed the tip of his ear – "that I love Arion most of all."_

_And, with that, she reached over his shoulder and snapped the laptop closed._

_"The end," she said._

_"What, really?" asked Tauriel, a little startled._

_"Who knows?" said Thorin and gave his wife a passionately tender kiss._

_"Not looking," said Arion….)_

_.o00o._


	36. Chapter 36 Thorin, Crime and Punishment

Well, here's another of the new-style stories which hinge on the idea that the Oakenshields are now using their laptop to write their own chapters. My husband who reads a lot of SF and fantasy stories tut-tutted at this one. He enjoyed it but feels that I have not given the "rules" of this new concept, where two realities overlap, sufficient thought or explanation. I would agree but I didn't want to make the episode too laboured. So, I would like to ask you just to read and accept – and hopefully be amused by - what is going on without too much close analysis about how the whole thing "works". But, I'd really like to hear your opinion after you get to the end.

This one happens shortly after the arrival of our new character, Mary Sue. Lostwithiel has a secret, as we all know by now, and Poppy is determined to get to the bottom of it. How much grief will she bring to herself, to her husband and to Tauriel and Thorin by trying to resurrect things that might best be left alone?

.o00o.

ALL ABOUT THORIN…..AND EVERYONE ELSE

Thorin, Crime and Punishment

Pt I

Mary Sue and Arion had exchanged silver rings and had happily made up the double bed in Thorin's guest bedroom.

"We'll have to build our own house soon," said Poppy to her husband, as she brushed her golden curls in front of the bedroom mirror. They were in the gently swaying tree-house to which they had removed themselves in an act of generosity after Mary Sue's arrival.

"Mmm," said Lostwithiel the elf lord, not really listening. He was lying on top of the bed, propped up on one elbow and admiring his wife's delightful hair and the graceful movement of the brush.

"I'm like my father, really," continued Poppy. "I don't really like tree houses. I mean, the elves were very kind to let us have this one for the moment. And it's only just a short walk from the forge. But the constant swaying makes me feel a bit nauseous. Reminds me of the boat we took to Gondor."

"Mmm," said Lostwithiel again, wondering how much longer it would take his wife to stop chattering and come to bed.

"And speaking of Thorin…." She turned around with a naughty twinkle in her eye.

"We were?" asked the elf, trying to focus on the conversation.

"Don't think I'm going to let you wriggle out of things," she grinned, as she got up and crossed the room, waving the brush accusingly at him.

Lostwithiel blinked. "Wouldn't dream of it," he assured her. It seemed a safe thing to say when he hadn't the foggiest what she was going on about.

"Good," she said, "because it's about time you told me what went on between you and my mother that always makes my father look so angry with you." And she lay down beside him on the bed and dug him in the ribs with her brush.

The elf lord gulped. He had to admit that he was surprised that he had got away with this for so long. Admittedly, it had happened before she was born but his wife was amazingly alert to family gossip. She had been putting two and two together for years now and he only hoped she wasn't about to make four.

Poppy, meanwhile, was actually amused at the idea that her husband had, ages ago, had a crush on her mother and that her father had been annoyed and even jealous enough to beat up Lostwithiel because of it. Her sister, Rose, had told her about this incident but even Rose had only known a little about it because she and Arion had been staying with Aunt Dis at the time and weren't exactly witness to it. The two children had, however, seen the bruises that Thorin had turned up with, not all acquired during an orc attack they had discovered. But that's all that the children ever found out about the situation.

However, the topic had been raised yet again only a couple of days ago and her mother had snapped that it was none of her business. But, that made the whole affair even more intriguing. 'Thiel was easily manipulated and in the hiatus whilst they waited for someone to pick up the laptop and write their next story, Poppy felt she had plenty of time in which to worm the whole story out of her husband.

She ran a cool finger down his face, then down his neck to the top buttons of his shirt which she languidly began to undo. "Come on, 'Thiel. It must be hard keeping a secret for so long. You know I'll forgive you, whatever it was. Unburden yourself. Share it with me." She kissed him gently on the lips. "You know you want to," she whispered softly.

And, yes, he did want to. It had been a great burden to bear for such a long time. There was nothing that his wife didn't know about him – except this. And a confession trembled on his lips.

Poppy saw him wavering and grinned to herself. Her mother was such a beautiful woman that if someone had told Poppy that the whole of Middle-earth was in love with the elf woman, it wouldn't have surprised her. In fact, she was so proud of Tauriel that she would just have assumed that it was her mother's due. She wasn't jealous. Whatever feelings 'Thiel might once have had for her were obviously long past. He loved his wife now and she felt complete confidence in that love. But she just couldn't leave the subject of 'Thiel's secret alone.

"Shall we make love?" she whispered and she took his ear lobe between her sharp, white teeth and tugged gently.

Lostwithiel shivered. "Yes, please," he muttered back, his voice shaky with desire.

"Well, fair exchange," she murmured. "Just tell me a teensy bit about you and my mother. Were you in love with her?"

"A bit," he gasped as she ran her hand inside his shirt. "She was very beautiful you know." And he decided that there was no harm in telling her a small part of the story.

Poppy undid a few more of his buttons until his shirt was open to the waist, then bent her head so that her lips lightly brushed his chest. "When did it all start?" she pressed. "When you both lived at Thranduil's palace in Mirkwood?"

"N-no," he stuttered, feeling for the buttons on her bodice. "It happened a lot later – when she became my captain up at the outpost."

Poppy held his wrist firmly and stopped his progress. "That's interesting," she murmured. "So, what was the trigger?"

"Sh-she married your father." He tried again for the buttons but she still held his hand trapped in her own.

"How very curious," she said, her brow wrinkling. "Why on earth should that make a difference to the way you felt about her?"

Suddenly, Lostwithiel felt that he had crossed a line and given his wife too much information. If only her nearness wasn't so distracting and then perhaps he could concentrate better. "Umm, well, you know: elf and dwarf, dwarf and elf. It wasn't exactly on."

Poppy sat up, suddenly feeling quite disturbed at the direction of the conversation. "But why should my mother being married to a dwarf make her seem more attractive?"

Lostwithiel knew he had said too much and bit his lip anxiously. The silence grew between them and the elf lord sat up too, looking away from his wife's penetrating stare.

Her lip began to tremble. "You know," she said, "for years I've always been amused at the thought of you and my mother and imagined that it must have been a bit of silliness – that you had fallen in love with her and had mooned around, worshipping her from afar. And then my jealous father found out and beat you up. I always felt sorry for you….But there was something more, wasn't there?"

The silence stretched out.

"You WILL tell me, 'Thiel," said Poppy. "There should be truth and honesty between us, not lies and deceit. For the sake of our marriage, I need to know."

Lostwithiel sighed. Perhaps she was right. If he told her the truth then there was a chance that she would understand and forgive him, just as Tauriel and even Thorin had done. Now that he had started, there seemed to be no turning back. He shut his eyes and leaned back against the bed head.

"It happened so long ago. How can you possibly understand what things were like back then – how we all responded to – certain situations? This is going to be very difficult. I'm not quite sure that I can explain to you how it all came about."

"Try me," she said, and her voice had such a steely edge that he felt forced to carry on. He felt very tired and, in a toneless voice, began to tell his wife about the most shameful incident in his entire life. She had asked for honesty and he tried to give it to her, travelling back in his mind's eye with as accurate an account as possible of times past.

"I know that things are still a bit – edgy – between elves and dwarves but, before you were born, it was an awful lot worse and the relationship amounted to hatred," he started. "Thorin always said that there were some things he could never forgive and some that he never forgot; but that's the way that most elves felt about our common history too." He grinned wanly. "You should have been there that night in the Grey Havens at Thranduil's mansion when your mother and father turned up and announced their betrothal – the ripples of shock and disgust that ran through the room were palpable."

Poppy looked angry and on the defensive. "But, surely you didn't feel that way?" she asked. "You're my father's friend."

"Not then," he continued tiredly. "I hated dwarves as much as anyone and a group of us got together that evening and tried to break up the betrothal."

Poppy gasped and threw him a look of disbelief.

"It didn't work, of course, and a year later, after they got married and Arion was born, your mother was asked to set up the outpost and I was appointed her second in command. She was absolutely wonderful – I think all the men fell in love with her a bit then – but I was the only one who knew she was married to a dwarf. I finally told them all, of course, and the men turned against her and treated her very badly."

"I knew nothing of this," whispered Poppy. "All my lovely friends – Lithin, Borondin and the rest – I can hardly believe it. You should all be ashamed of yourselves."

"Of course we're ashamed – now. But we weren't then. It seems like another world and another time where hatred and disgust were appropriate emotions . That's why it's difficult to explain."

"Go on," she said quietly and she took hold of his hand. Her touch reassured him and Lostwithiel continued.

"We were all talking behind her back. The relationship between your mother and father just seemed so wrong and we began to make quite – repugnant – remarks about why she would have married a dwarf in the first place. Somehow my little crush was turned into something unpleasantly – sexual." Poppy's hand tightened on his and the elf returned the pressure, hoping that she was understanding his explanation, even if only in a small way. It gave him the courage to press on.

"Borondin and I were on guard duty one night. I found myself outside your mother's open window – and I climbed through."

Poppy's breath caught in her throat. "What happened?" she asked and was afraid to hear the answer.

Lostwithiel had never been honest about the next bit, not even to himself and he was silent for a few minutes, trying to find the courage to say what needed to be said. "I tried to rape her," he finally muttered. Poppy let out a forceful gasp as if someone had punched her in the stomach and she pulled her fingers from his grasp. He turned to look at her. "She was too strong for me. She broke my nose." And he absentmindedly touched the small bump on his nose that was the only blemish to his beauty.

Poppy backed away from him across the bed and then stood, her eyes wide. "I don't know you, Lostwithiel," she finally said and she swayed a little on the spot.

"No, I don't know me from that time either," her husband concurred and his eyes pleaded with her. "Your mother forgave me immediately. And your father came to forgive me too. I love them both."

Poppy continued to stare at him in shock. "But, I can't forgive you," she said. "I shall never forgive you."

He tried to reason with her: "We need to talk about it. I've tried to be honest and now we need to talk."

But, she put her hand to her eyes and shook her head. "No, you are not the man I thought I had married. There is nothing to talk about. And now I want you to leave because I cannot bear to be in the same room as you."

He heard her voice teetering on the edge of hysteria. Perhaps she would listen tomorrow. And so he picked up his things and left. Poppy stood for long moments staring into space after the door had shut quietly behind him and then she threw herself on the bed and wept.

.o00o.

Pt II

Lostwithiel stood outside the tree house for some minutes wondering where to go. In the end, he headed up the hill to seek the advice of his two best friends, Tauriel and Thorin. It was late and, when he got to the forge, most of the house was in darkness. But after he had quietly opened the front door, he found Tauriel in the living-room holding two cups of tea.

"'Thiel!" she said, immediately concerned. "What's happened? Where's Poppy?"

The elf lord sat down at the table and sighed. "I'm glad you're here, Tauriel. She's kicked me out and now I don't know what to do."

Tauriel put down the cups and sat next to him, an encouraging hand placed over his whilst Lostwithiel explained what had happened. She gave his hand a pat. "She'll be more sensible in the morning. You know how pragmatic my daughter is. I'll go and have a word with her tomorrow." And he gave her a grateful smile.

"Where's Thorin?" he asked. "I hope he won't be mad with me."

"He's down in the harbour town for a couple of nights, explaining to everyone there about the laptop and how we shall be writing our own stories from now on."

Then she nodded to the fireplace. "Rosie has moved her stuff from the fireside out to the stable now that Arion has moved into the guest bedroom with Mary Sue and I shall be sleeping out there tonight with her because she said she was feeling a bit under the weather." And she gestured to the two cups of tea. "So, you might as well sleep in my room, at least until Thorin comes back. Let's hope by then that Poppy will have got over this business."

And so Tauriel found herself changing sheets yet again, this time with Lostwithiel's grateful help; and soon the lamp on the dining room table had been turned down and everyone had retired to their beds.

.o00o.

Poppy, meanwhile, was unable to get to sleep. She lay wide awake in her bed with a whole succession of horrifying images running through her head as she thought about what her husband had tried to do to her mother. No wonder her father had tried to kill him! What she was finding difficult to understand was how her parents had decided to forgive him because she knew that she never would.

She felt so angry and her anger grew and heated to such a degree that, in the end, she couldn't lie in bed any longer but got up and dressed and then set out for the forge. She had to talk to her mother and she had to do it now, even if it meant waking her up. She vaguely remembered her father saying that he was thinking of going down to the harbour for a couple of days which might be just as well. If this was so, she could corner her parents one at a time. She wondered where her husband had gone. Not the forge, she decided. He would be too embarrassed to admit to her mother that he had revealed his dreadful secret to her. No, he would have gone down to the harbour and sought refuge there, she decided. Or perhaps, if he wanted to avoid her father, he was camping out in the nearby woods.

At the moment, she hated 'Thiel and wanted some kind of vengeful punishment to be inflicted on him. A punch on the nose from Thorin all those years ago was definitely not enough to satisfy her. When she got to the forge, the only light was from a solitary lamp on the dining-room table. And then she knew what she would do. Rather than wake up her mother, she got out the lap-top from its cupboard and began to type. She would write a story about her husband. Yes, that would fix him. And she would call it Crime and Punishment. She set out her title and then she began…..

Crime and Punishment

….In the early hours of the morning, Thorin toiled up the hill from the harbour. He hadn't intended to return home until the following day, but he had had a good chat with everyone and had then tried to get comfortable in one of the tree houses. He had failed, however. Tree houses were just not his thing and, after tossing and turning for a few hours, he had finally got dressed and had set out for home beneath the calm and soothing silvery beams of a crescent moon.

He grinned to himself as he walked. Tauriel would be pleased to see him, he thought. Well, he would definitely be pleased to see her. He hated spending time apart from her and was glad that his business down in the harbour had concluded so swiftly, even if it had been nice to socialise with so many old friends.

No lights shone from the house as he approached which was only to be expected since it was the middle of the night, but when he opened the front door, he found a table lamp faintly glowing which meant that he didn't have to stumble around in the dark.

Quietly, he took off his boots and then his clothes, folding them neatly and placing them on a chair. Then he opened the door of his bedroom. There were no windows in the cave section of the house and so he left the door slightly ajar so that he didn't trip over anything. His grin grew more lupine as he saw Tauriel's golden hair, spread out on the pillow and gleaming faintly in the soft shaft of light from the dining room.

Carefully, he lifted the coverlet and slid beneath the sheets. The bed was warm and cosy after the coolness of the night air. Tauriel lay with her back towards him and he edged slowly towards her, thinking how surprised she was going to be. He touched her hair gently and let a few strands slide through his fingers. She stirred slightly and sighed in her sleep. Then he wrapped himself around her and slipped his hand about her waist…..

…And then he froze.

Lostwithiel turned sleepily in Thorin's arms, having happy dreams that Poppy had forgiven him. Still not awake, he bent forward and kissed her. But his dreams became uneasy as he sensed that something wasn't quite right. He opened one eye….. And froze.

Thorin was the first to react. "Lostwithiel!" he hissed. And then he leaped out of the bed and stumbled to the door whilst the elf sat there looking dazed and horrified.

His mind racing, the dwarf found his boots and thrust his feet into them. Where was Tauriel? Just then, the kitchen door opened, and there stood his wife, clutching two hot drinks, looking very beautiful but dishevelled – and guilty, he decided – dressed in a lovely silken robe which was hanging half open.

Thorin gave her one, deeply wounded glance and then, stuffing his clothes under his arm and with his head held high, he marched out of the house and disappeared into the night.

Lostwithiel came stumbling stark naked out of the bedroom, looking wildly around for the dwarf. Tauriel rolled her eyes. She was surrounded by men without their clothes on and it was no longer funny. "Oh, for goodness' sake," she snapped at the elf lord. "Get dressed!" And she turned on her heel, went back into the kitchen and slapped down her two mugs in exasperation. Rosie, feeling rather unwell out in the stable, would certainly not be getting the comforting mug of camomile tea she had promised her any time soon.

By the time she came out of the kitchen, Lostwithiel had re-emerged from the bedroom. He had flung on some clothes and was hopping on one foot trying to get a boot on. He looked wild-eyed and despairing.

"He got into bed, Tauriel, and thought I was you!" he gasped. "And I was dreaming that he was Poppy and….and….I kissed him!" And he stared at her in horror. Tauriel stared back at him for a moment and then she burst into hysterical laughter.

"'Thiel," she choked, "if this wasn't all so horribly awful then it would be the funniest thing I've experienced all year. By Eru, I wish I could have seen his face!" And she broke into hysterics again and sat down on a chair. "And the way he marched out of here with just his boots on…" And her laughter continued until Lostwithiel became quite worried and sat next to her with an arm around her heaving shoulders.

"Tauriel," he said tentatively. "Are you all right?"

"No," she gulped and she lay her head on his shoulder and wept. "You should have seen the look he gave me," she said. "And I can only guess at what must be going on in that stupid dwarf's head."

.o00o.

Pt III

_(Poppy paused in her typing for a moment and bit a fingernail. She wanted to punish her husband but she was also punishing Thorin and Tauriel in the process. She hesitated to go on and wondered whether or not to delete what she had written so far. But, in the end, she decided that she was angry enough with her parents to involve them in her plot. After all, they had known about Lostwithiel and yet they hadn't warned her. Her mother had been quite enthusiastic – even pushy - when she had fallen in love with him; and her father, although he wasn't so keen, had gone up to the outpost and had enabled their betrothal by suggesting to the elf ways in which he and Poppy could reach a compromise. And not a single word had either of her parents said about this horrible incident which would certainly have affected her decision if only she had known. If she had known, she might have married Roger instead. And now, rather than living in this dull place out in the sticks, she would be a rich widow, enjoying a life of luxury in the Grey Havens._

_In the end, Poppy decided that they deserved to be punished too and she carried on typing…..)_

Thorin strode blindly down the hill for a short distance, trying not to think. And then he veered off into a nearby wood and put his clothes on. He stood there wondering what to do next and, feeling overwhelmed by confusion, finally slumped to the ground with his back to a tree.

He closed his eyes. Don't think, don't think, he told himself! You always go barking up the wrong tree when you think! But he couldn't stop his thoughts from wildly whirling about in his head.

His wife and his friend had not expected him back that night. And, when he had arrived home – unexpectedly – in the middle of the night – there was Lostwithiel, naked, in Thorin's bed and there was Tauriel, half-dressed, standing in the kitchen doorway, a hot drink in each hand. The elf lord must have thought he was Tauriel, returning to the bed, and he had turned and kissed him. Thorin passed the back of his hand across his lips with remembered disgust.

So, the question was: how long had this been going on for? And the obvious answer was: it had been going on forever.

He reckoned it could be traced right back to that incident up at the outpost. Tauriel had forgiven Lostwithiel so quickly and had persuaded him that he was being silly to hold a grudge against him. They had had a big argument about it and she had made him feel dwarvish in his jealousies, mean and inadequate. And, by Mahal, how inadequate had he felt when he had made odious comparisons between himself and the handsome, quick-witted elf lord!? And he began to wonder again, for the first time in years, why Tauriel had chosen him and not one of her own kind.

It seemed to Thorin that the elf lord had always haunted his dreams, even before he had known about the attack upon his wife: none of the other elves had affected him in this way and he had to conclude that he must have sensed that Lostwithiel was his only true rival. Even when he had mistakenly believed that his wife had run off with Thranduil, the king of Mirkwood had never entered his nightmares in the same way that Lostwithiel had done down the years. Thorin had always wondered why: perhaps he should have listened more closely to what his subconscious was trying to tell him.

After he had found out about the "incident", the thing that had tormented him the most was the thought that Tauriel had been in bed with such a beautiful creature as Lostwithiel – and, even if she had subsequently broken his nose and kicked him out, surely Thorin must have been the object of comparison in her head? Even I would have found the elf more attractive, snorted Thorin to himself, and I'm a dwarf! And a bloke!

Then there were those years and years which she had spent up at the outpost with Lostwithiel whilst he – all trusting and unsuspecting – looked after the children down in the forge. What a fool he had been! She had given signs that she wasn't perfectly satisfied with her married life, like the time when he had found her kissing Thurstan, a rider from Rohan. She had brushed off his anger and had told him not to be silly. And then she had taken him in her arms and everything had been forgotten.

How she must have missed her lover in recent years since they had arrived in the Undying Lands! He remembered how, every day, she would scan the horizon for a ship from the Grey Havens and, every time a new one arrived, she had been first down to the dock. And when he had finally arrived on the last ship, she had thrown her arms around him and had held him tightly to her breast! Why had he not guessed then? Thorin conveniently forgot at this moment that he, too, had embraced the elf lord and had held him tightly in his arms, overwhelmed with emotion as he was reunited with his old friend once more.

So, what was he to do now? If he returned in the morning, they were bound to beg for his forgiveness and he would doubtless give it to them. Life would carry on as before and he would always suspect that their relationship was continuing behind his back.

Thorin fingered his sword. Or, he thought, he could put an end to things now as he should have done years ago. He could return to the forge and run the elf through. But, they were in the Undying Lands and he wasn't quite sure that this would work.

Or, perhaps best of all, he could make his son-in-law an object of odium, rejected by his community and cast out by his wife (where _was _Poppy, by the way?) Yes, for an immortal being, this would be an eternal sentence. And Thorin got to his feet deciding that this was what he would do.

_("Poppy!" gasped Tauriel. And the startled Poppy looked up to find her mother staring over her shoulder. "What on earth is this cruel story you're writing!? What on earth has your father ever done that you would want to put him through so much misery?"_

_Poppy tried to shut the laptop but her mother stayed her hand. "I believe, Poppy, you've got some explaining to do, don't you think?" she said severely and Poppy felt like a naughty little girl again, being caught out in some mischief._

_She looked sullen. "He deserved it," she muttered. "You all deserve it!"_

_Tauriel sat down next to her daughter and took her by the shoulders. "Tell me," she commanded._

_And so Poppy told her all about Lostwithiel's confession and the pain she had felt and the anger that she was still feeling for her husband and how this anger extended to both her mother and her father because they had never told her and had even encouraged her to marry him. When she had finished, she glared defiantly at her mother, daring her to tell her off. But Tauriel opened her arms and pulled her down upon her shoulder and kissed her hair. Poppy began to cry softly. "I've made such a mess of things, mother," she said. "Make it better."_

_And so, after she had dried her daughter's eyes, Tauriel sat up to the laptop. "My turn," she said with a smile. But she knew that mopping up her daughter's mess might prove a bit tricky.)_

.o00o.

Pt IV

Thorin strapped his sword to his back and, with a determined look on his face, he climbed the hill once more to his forge. When he got to the front door, he flung it open without hesitation and strode inside. Tauriel stood before the fireplace on her own, her arms folded and with a rather grim look on her face. She looked as though she were expecting him. That was the trouble with his wife. She knew him really well and that was probably why she found it so easy to deceive and betray him.

"Where's Lostwithiel?" he asked, glancing around the room.

"Back in bed," she replied curtly.

"Waiting for you?" he sneered. But it hurt him to say it.

"Well, if he's waiting for anyone, it's likely to be Poppy," she said with a raised eyebrow. "He was in such a state after that debacle that I made him a sleeping draught and sent him back to our room."

The thought of the elf asleep in their marital bed was a very disturbing one for Thorin and he couldn't believe that Tauriel was showing no shame.

"So," he said, trying to take control of the situation, "how long has this been going on for?"

Tauriel gave a sigh of irritation. "Nothing has been going on, Thorin. It's all in your vivid imagination."

He faced her angrily, standing only a few inches away. "I'm not a fool," he growled. "I come home unexpectedly to find that elf in our bed and you swanning around half-dressed. It's been going on for years, hasn't it?" His vivid blue eyes blackened as he stared into her own, trying to read the truth in her response. He was expecting a violent row involving a whole string of denials. And so, she caught him on the back foot when she gently reached out a hand and tenderly ran it down one of his braids.

"I love your plaits," she whispered.

He stiffened. That gentle touch made him want to reach out and touch her face in return. He wanted to lean forward and kiss her. But he refused to respond to her game. Instead, he batted her fingers away. She looked hurt and Thorin felt cruel.

"So, where's Poppy?" he snarled. "What does she think of all this?" And he pointed to their bedroom door.

"I have no idea," she replied. "She managed to worm out of 'Thiel the whole story of that incident up at the outpost. She kicked him out and he came here to ask us for advice."

"Ah, yes," said Thorin triumphantly, "but he knew I wouldn't be here."

"Are you sure?" asked Tauriel. "I overheard you mentioning it to Poppy as she left, but can you be certain that she told her husband?"

"Yes – no – of course she did," the dwarf harrumphed. "That's why he came here. He knew he'd get some "comfort" from you whilst I was out of the way."

"Do you know," Tauriel mused, "I really feel like stamping my foot in frustration at the moment. But I might just kiss you instead." And she leaned forward and planted a firm kiss on his lips. And Thorin was annoyed with himself when he didn't jerk away but responded.

But, when the kiss was over, he glared at her and said: "You're so manipulative, Tauriel, but it won't work this time. I'm going to tell the whole community about Lostwithiel's attack on you and about your affair. Poppy will cast him off and all our friends will be so shocked that they won't have anything more to do with him."

He had taken a step backwards, away from her, but now she took a step forwards and closed the distance between them. Her face was so close to his own that he felt her breath upon him. An amused smile played about her lips. "And what about me, Thorin? Are you going to cast me off too?"

He hadn't thought that far. If he did cast her off, she would go and live with Lostwithiel and he couldn't bear the thought.

"No," he said with a self-righteous lift of his chin. "I shall need a housekeeper. You can stay on and look after me. And perhaps you can make up for all your betrayal over the years."

Tauriel was trying not to laugh. "And where is this housekeeper going to sleep?" she asked with a slight twitch of her lips.

Thorin opened his mouth and then closed it. There was a long pause. Then: "In my bed," he finally growled. Tauriel let out a ripple of laughter and Thorin felt as though she had caught him out in some way. "It's your punishment, not mine," he added angrily. "I don't see why I should suffer."

Tauriel suddenly looked very serious. "Have you the smallest idea how hurt I am that you have chosen to believe the worst of me? That, after all my years of loving you, my reward is total distrust? Perhaps you should go out to the stable and ask your granddaughter where I was sleeping tonight and if I was in the kitchen fetching us both a tea because she wasn't feeling very well. I gave Lostwithiel our bed because he had nowhere to go after his row with Poppy and I planned to sort out their married life in the morning. But it looks as though I can't even sort out my own."

Slowly, Thorin was taking in what Tauriel was saying and every word pierced him like a knife. She saw his face contort and she swiftly drew him into her arms. "It's all right," she said softly. "It's all over. I love you, and only you, and I know you love me." He held her tightly and buried his face in her neck. A torrent of apologies were about to pour from his lips but she placed her finger on his mouth. "There's no need," she said.

He wanted to sweep her up into his arms and carry her into their bedroom but he reflected with irritation that a wretched elf by the name of Lostwithiel occupied their bed. At that moment, the front door opened again and Poppy stood on the threshold. "Is he here?" she asked.

"Yes" smiled Tauriel. "He's in our bed. He's very upset, you know. He loves you, we love him and you, I guess, love him too. So, there's no problem, is there?" And she gave her daughter a hug. "I've given him a sleeping draught, but why don't you go and get into bed with him for a cuddle? You can talk things through when he wakes up in the morning." It seemed like a good idea and Poppy trotted off to the bedroom with a smile on her face.

Thorin grimaced. "So where do _we_ sleep?" he asked.

"Down in the tree house, of course," replied his wife, "at least for one night."

.o00o.

The wind had risen and Thorin was clutching the edge of his mattress. "I hate tree houses," he said. "I can see me being tossed out of bed in the middle of the night if the branches continue to sway like this."

"Well, there's one way to prevent that," said Tauriel.

"Tell me," said Thorin.

"Well, first of all, you let go of that mattress, slip your arm around my waist and hold on to me instead. And then I do this…" And she twisted her fists about his braids. "And I hold on tight to you as well."

"And then," she whispered, "we kiss. And thus entwined together, I promise you that you will definitely _not_ be thrown out of bed."

"Sounds like a plan," murmured Thorin as he swept his wife into his arms.

.o00o.


	37. Chapter 37 The Elf Lord and the Toddler

Here you go, everyone: another "laptop" story. This was written after a prompt from yelloweeee who wanted to hear all about Lostwithiel as a father when he looked after little Rosie. Effective? Efficient? Calm? In control? I'm sure you've guessed, LOL! And what happens if you write a laptop story about the past?

And I can't tell you how much pleasure it gives me to get a review. Your thoughts (and any new prompts) are always very welcome.

.o00o.

All About Thorin…..And Everyone Else

The Elf Lord and the Toddler

Pt I

Thorin and Tauriel were back at the forge quite early the day after the crisis between Poppy and Lostwithiel had apparently been sorted. The dwarf had had a pretty bad night – well, a lot of it had been bad, although there had been some good bits too – a number of good bits, he grinned to himself – but his main aim was to get out of the tree house and back into his own bed as soon as possible.

As Thorin and his wife entered by the front door, Lostwithiel staggered out bleary-eyed from the bedroom. "Is everything all right between you two now?" asked Tauriel with a smile. "I tried to put Poppy in a forgiving mood when I wrote my part of the story."

"Umm, getting there," muttered Lostwithiel. "But I feel as if I'm walking on eggshells."

"Well," observed Thorin cheerfully, noting the dark circles under his son-in-law's eyes, and winking at him, "you look as though you've been up half the night 'resolving' your differences."

"Only talking," sighed the handsome elf. "I'm really trying. She's just sent me to fetch her tea and toast. I think that waiting on her hand and foot will be part of the punishment."

Thorin let out a shout of laughter. "I think you'll be paying for your mistake for a long time yet."

"What mistake?" yawned Rosie as she came in from the stable.

Thorin came to Lostwithiel's rescue. "Oh, you know, Rosie, us husbands are always making mistakes as far as our wives are concerned." And the elf lord threw him a grateful look.

"Grandfather!" exclaimed Rosie, momentarily distracted. "You're back! Is that why you didn't return to the stable last night?" she asked Tauriel. And she gave them both a hug.

"Yes," smiled Thorin, returning the hug. "I came back in the middle of the night and we got involved in a bit of a ….discussion." And he threw a quick, apologetic look at Tauriel.

Rosie was feeling a lot better after a good night's sleep and she went off into the kitchen with her father to help with breakfast. The door opened again and Arion, hand in hand with Mary-Sue, came into the room, with Arion staring in such an infatuated way into his beloved's eyes that he nearly tripped over the threshold. Thorin rolled up his eyes. "Love's young dream," he muttered and Tauriel kicked him under the table.

"Have a good night then?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you," smiled Mary-Sue sweetly. "Very good." And she blushed.

"Mahal preserve us," thought her father-in-law-to-be. "I wonder how long it'll be before they all build their own homes and move out?"

Tauriel wandered into the bedroom and found Poppy sitting up in bed, waiting for her husband to bring her a breakfast tray. Her mother sat on the edge of the bed and held her hand. "I hear you two are making progress," she said.

"I suppose we are," replied her daughter, "but I don't want 'Thiel to get over-confident." Then she gave one of her sly smiles. "I shall keep him on his toes for a bit and make the most of the situation."

The elf laughed but then squeezed her hand and said seriously: "Don't push him too far, Poppy. He's suffered a lot already."

Poppy tossed her head. "In what way?" she asked. "You're the victim, mother, and I've suffered considerably since he told me his secret last night."

Tauriel put an arm about her daughter's shoulders and leaned back against the bedhead with her. "But he's suffered for years and years, Poppy. Isn't that punishment enough?"

"Perhaps…but that was a very wicked thing he did and it's very hard to let him off the hook."

"But," replied Tauriel, "he was going through a very confused phase and he had no mother or father to guide him. They died years earlier and, if he could have talked to someone, then perhaps things wouldn't have happened. It's very unusual, you know, for an elf to lose one parent, let alone two."

Poppy wrinkled her forehead. "I hadn't thought about that, you know," she mused. "I've still got you, haven't I? And I'll probably always have you." Then her face softened: "Poor 'Thiel," she said.

Lostwithiel came in at that moment, carrying her tea and toast and Tauriel left them to it. Poppy picked up a slice of toast and nibbled an edge thoughtfully. Then she replaced the toast on the plate and handed the tray back to her husband. "Is there something wrong with it?" asked the elf worriedly. "Would you like something else?"

"Yes, Thiel," she said, "I would like something else. But that involves you taking this rather heavy tray from me, placing it on that chest and getting back into bed."

Lostwithiel looked at her blankly for a moment, then he grinned, moved the tray and threw back the coverlet on the bed.

"You're a bit slow sometimes," said his wife, as she took him in her arms.

.o00o.

Pt II

Two hours later and everyone was up, breakfasted, washed and dressed, and sitting around the dining table. The laptop sat staring at them and they all stared at the laptop.

"So, who's going to write the next story?" asked Thorin.

"Me," said Lostwithiel. "I haven't even touched the thing yet."

Thorin glared at him. "I'm not quite sure I can trust you," he said. "What's this story going to be about, then?"

"Well," said the elf, leaning back in his chair with his eyes half closed and a dreamy smile on his face, "I thought I'd write a lovely romance."

"Oh, goody," said his daughter, clapping her hands together. "Will it be about me?"

"No, sorry, chicken," replied Lostwithiel. "It will be a tragic story of love across the divide."

"Divide!" snorted Thorin. "What divide?"

"The divide that exists between elf and dwarf."

"No!" snapped Thorin. "You will NOT write a story about me and Tauriel."

"Of course not," said Lostwithiel, looking indignant. "This will be about the forbidden love that develops unexpectedly between a handsome, blond-haired elf lord and a grumpy dwarf."

"Legolas and Gimli!" roared Arion. "I thought they seemed pretty friendly on that ship from the Grey Havens!"

"Try again," grinned Lostwithiel. "This story will follow the traditional course: dwarf meets elf – dwarf hates elf and elf hates dwarf – then, after many misunderstandings and a stolen kiss, they realise they are in love with each other."

"No," said Thorin firmly.

"It will be so romantic…"

"No, don't you dare!" Thorin shouted more loudly.

"And their love will be so powerful, defying all conventions of society, that…"

"No-o-o-!"

"…they abandon everyone and everything and…"

"I'll kill you, Lostwithiel!"

"…and live, cast out, but wonderfully in love until the end of time."

The whole family was sighing romantically by then. "That's just so wonderful," said Rosie as Lostwithiel opened the laptop. But Thorin stretched swiftly across the table and seized the elf by the collar, snapping down the lid on his fingers.

"Don't you dare touch that keyboard!" he roared.

"Ow!" said Lostwithiel, sucking his injured digits.

Everyone looked taken aback at Thorin's behaviour. Thorin glared into Lostwithiel's eyes and snarled: "One accidental kiss doesn't make for a searing romance."

The elf stared back at him. "Doesn't it?" he asked, looking quite crestfallen. "Ah, the cruel rejection of it all!"

And then he burst out laughing.

"I really got you going there, didn't I?" he chuckled. And Thorin sat back on his chair, glowering and looking very unamused.

"NOT funny," he said. "That story would have been just like you." And he went into a sulk.

The rest of them looked from one to the other – and then the penny dropped. The laughter didn't subside for at least five minutes and Thorin's scowl only deepened.

"Oh, come on, my love," grinned Tauriel, kissing him on the cheek. "You've got to admit that we all had a jolly good laugh."

"At my expense," growled the dwarf. But, after a bit of huffing, Thorin finally looked up and asked: "So what WILL your story be about, then?"

Lostwithiel smiled broadly. "Well, it's going to be a flash-back to something that has already happened and it does include you, Rosie."

Rosie giggled. "I'm not sure that I trust you either, father…But, I suppose that, if it's already happened, it can't be too bad. Just be careful what sort of slant you give to things. Nothing silly or naughty."

"As if I'd be mean about my own daughter," said Lostwithiel, the picture of innocence. And then he opened the laptop and began.

.o00o.

The Elf Lord and the Toddler

"Right," said Poppy. "I've left a list of things to do on the table." And she looked down severely at her husband who was sitting on the floor, facing little Rosie. The child was just over a year old and this was the first time that her mother had left her completely in the care of the elf lord.

Poppy pulled on her gloves and slung the hem of her riding habit over her arm. She was going down to her father's old forge at the crossroads of Ered Luin to look after her sister and her sister's two children because Rose was unwell and Aunt Dis couldn't cope. Nothing else would have persuaded her to leave Rosie in the sole care of her father.

Thorin's daughter never imagined that she would put someone else before herself but, the minute that Rosie was born, the baby became the centre of her world: now, it was Rosie first, herself second and 'Thiel last. The elf didn't mind. He knew what his wife was like and she always seemed to have plenty of love left over for him once she had taken herself and their child into consideration. And, anyway, he put Rosie first too….not that he would ever let Poppy know that: he didn't fully understand the workings of his wife's mind and he wasn't taking any chances.

"The list will tell you everything you need to do over the course of the day – and the night – and there are suggestions for what to do in tricky situations."

"Yes, dear," said Lostwithiel.

He didn't know whether to be excited or scared to have Rosie all to himself. After the baby had been born, he had expected to become a drudge, with Poppy lying in bed half the day, claiming to be exhausted, whilst he ran himself ragged looking after both her and the baby and staying up half the night to help with the feeds.

But, it was Poppy who ran herself ragged. She immediately became possessive and didn't trust the baby with anyone else, in particular the elf lord, it seemed. The proud new mother would hardly let the child out of her arms, was the one to feed and change her and dress her and the one who took on her sole care at night. "I'll go!" she would say, the minute the baby started crying. And she would leap out of bed and tell her husband to go back to sleep. "I'll call you if I need you," she said. But she never did.

At first, Lostwithiel didn't mind. After all, it seemed to give his wife so much pleasure to nurse the baby and who wouldn't want a good night's sleep? But slowly he began to feel excluded and, when he did help, he felt awkward and clumsy, which meant that Poppy tutted at his efforts and he just became even clumsier. Over the past year or so, he had hardly held his daughter, let alone changed or fed her. And now he was going to be all on his own.

"Just don't drop her!" were Poppy's last words as she marched out the door.

The pretty child looked over her shoulder as she heard the door bang; then she looked back at her father; and then she realised that the two of them were alone. She stared uncertainly at him for a moment and then her face crumpled and she burst into tears: "Mum-meee!" she cried.

Lostwithiel began to panic.

.o00o.

Pt III

The elf lord tried waving a rattle and various other toys under Rosie's nose, but this didn't work. "Daddy's here! Daddy's here!" he reassured her frantically. But her face grew redder and her sobs louder. He leaped to his feet and picked her up, jiggling her on his arm and walking backwards and forwards across the room. She would momentarily subside, burying her head in his shoulder and almost falling asleep with exhaustion. But, then she would jerk awake, raise her head to stare at his face for a moment and, when she discovered that he still wasn't her mother, would start the dreadful screaming again.

With his daughter perched on his hip, Lostwithiel picked up the list of instructions and scanned it, desperately looking for advice on how to stop a toddler from crying. But nothing was immediately apparent. His eye drifted down to "Midday lunch". Well, it was nearly midday – well, 11 o'clock – so perhaps he could bring that forward a bit. Everyone knew that food was comforting. The added bonus was that she became tired after a meal and he could put her to sleep in her cot for a bit.

He hurried with Rosie into the kitchen and found the food that Poppy had left for him to warm through and a water bath already simmering gently on top of the stove. If only Agnes, the housekeeper, were here to help out. But Agnes, by a piece of bad timing, was away in the Grey Havens for the week, visiting some of her relatives. He carefully placed the bowl of food in the water bath and then took Rosie to the window in an attempt to amuse her whilst her lunch was heating.

She was momentarily distracted by the leaves on a nearby tree fluttering in the breeze.

"Ooo, look, Rosie! Look at the little bird sitting in the tree!" The child stared at the bird for a minute until it flew away and, of course, its loss only upset her again.

"Ooo, look at the big white cloud in the sky! It looks like a heffalump! Do you see the heffalump, Rosie?"

Rosie stared intently at the cloud, but, no, she couldn't see any heffalump. And, when she couldn't find it, then she cried in disappointment.

"No heffalump!" she wailed.

The elf tried the dining room next where a large harp was standing in the corner. He ran a hand gently over the strings and her attention was immediately caught by the beautiful sound. For the next five minutes, she was absorbed by the instrument and her father let her run her fingers across the strings too. But her efforts were a lot more jangly and she looked up expectantly at her father. "Daddy do," she demanded. And she allowed the elf to put her down on the floor whilst he plucked at the strings and sang her a song.

When he had finished, she clapped her hands in glee and Lostwithiel felt a tremendous sense of satisfaction that his daughter was such an appreciative admirer of his skills. But he could see her getting restless and so they returned to the kitchen where he was relieved to find her lunch ready.

He placed her in her special baby chair and, picking up the bowl and a spoon, first tested it to make sure it wasn't too hot – he wasn't THAT stupid. Then he proffered it to her. Unfortunately, Poppy wasn't yet very hungry after a rather substantial breakfast. When she just turned her head away, Lostwithiel knew he would have to try something that would tempt her. He would play "the horse goes into the stable" game which he had seen Rose use when her children refused their food.

"Here comes the horse," he sang. And Rosie turned her head back towards the spoon. "Trot-trot, trot-trot, trot-trot." She waited expectantly. "A-a-a-nd OPEN the stable door!" he exclaimed and she automatically opened her mouth. "And IN goes the horse!" Lostwithiel shoved the spoon into her mouth and heaved a sigh of relief when she swallowed it and didn't spit it out.

Her delight in the game meant that they got through nearly the entire bowl before she started to refuse the food again. He picked her up and began nursing her, first offering her a drink from her special baby mug and then rocking her gently and singing her a lullaby. With a huge sigh of relief, he saw that her eyes quickly closed and he quietly walked to the nursery next door and placed her in the cot which she used during the day.

The triumphant father then crept from the room and went back to the kitchen to make himself a hot drink as a reward for his pains. But as he relaxed in a chair and brought the cup to his lips, to his horror, the screaming started all over again. But….but….she wasn't supposed to wake up for at least two hours. When Poppy fed her and put her down, she went out like a light!

Slapping his mug down, he ran to the nursery, only to find that Rosie had been sick. All the food that she just hadn't wanted had been vomited over the sheets and coverlet. Lostwithiel grabbed her up, put her over his shoulder and patted her back…and a second lot pumped up all over his shirt.

The next 10 minutes were chaotic. He stripped off his shirt, stripped the cot, stripped Rosie and changed her nappy while he was at it – another revolting chore. He decided that women's noses must work differently and that this made them more suitable for carrying out such domestic tasks. Then, after redressing Rosie in clothes that were kept in the nursery, he placed all the soiled linen in a bowl to soak, then wearily carried her up the stairs where he placed her on the bed and put on a clean shirt.

She glowered at him from her position on the bed and Lostwithiel knew that she was about to start wailing again. The instruction sheet had also listed "Playtime with Beren" and this seemed like a good idea. He would take her up to the family quarters at the outpost and there they would visit Challis and her young son, Beren. Surely Challis would help him or at least keep him company whilst he struggled through the day?

.o00o.

Challis was startled when she answered the knock at her door to find a dishevelled Lostwithiel on her doorstep clutching a grumpy-looking Rosie.

"Rose is ill," explained the elf lord, "and Poppy has gone off to help for a day or so. She suggested," and he looked hopeful, "that I should bring Rosie up to play with Beren."

The pretty elf grinned. "Having a hard time, 'Thiel?" she asked. He was now the captain of the outpost and controlled her husband and the other elves with a firm hand. But, at the moment, he seemed to be having trouble controlling his daughter.

"Ummm," said Lostwithiel, and he shuffled his feet. Then he gave a wry answering grin and said, "How did you guess?"

"Oh, the food in the hair, the dribble on your shirt, the faint smell of baby sick?" And she laughed and opened the door wide. The elf hurried gratefully inside.

Beren was three, a strapping little boy, and he looked up with interest as Rosie was brought into the room and was placed on the floor with him and his toys. For a short time, the little girl was absorbed by the new objects scattered around her and the elf lord sighed with relief as he had the time to sit back, relax a little and drink the cup of tea that Challis brought him.

He and Challis were old comrades: they had been through a lot together, trying to protect the borders of Ered Luin, and now they chatted in an easy and amiable way. So far, the only elves amongst the dozen who manned the outpost to get married and have a child were Challis and Lithin and they now occupied the spacious married quarters that had been built adjacent to the stables of the old farmhouse. Challis enjoyed it there. She never felt lonely with all her old friends at hand to visit her in their spare time and help out if necessary. Beren loved it too and liked being fussed over and made the centre of attention. Poppy and Rosie also enjoyed similar attention, although Poppy's manor house was built slightly further away and she thought that the captain's lady should remain slightly more aloof than Challis. However, it was very difficult to remain aloof, she discovered, with a group who had known her since birth.

The two elves watched their children with amusement as they played together. Beren had begun to learn certain social skills and he graciously allowed Rosie to play with all his toys. But, finally, she snatched one desirable object out of his hands and wouldn't give it back. After a number of attempts to distract her so that the toy could be returned to Beren who was beginning to look upset, Lostwithiel finally took it from her and said firmly: "Beren's!" Immediately she began to scream and Lostwithiel sent a harassed look to Challis who just smiled calmly and suggested that they take them both outside to play on the front lawn.

In front of the building was a lovely stretch of grass that offered a sweeping view of the surrounding countryside. Challis often brought Beren to play in this spot and they would wave to any of the elven troop who passed by on their way to the stables. To this verdant lawn they now removed themselves and Rosie soon forgot her tears amidst the activity. Lithin and Borondin came past, returning from a patrol, and led their horses to the stables.

"A-a-a-n-d OPEN the stable door," sang Rosie, remembering the food game from the morning. "And IN goes the horse!"

Lithin's horse, a big, black creature was being led because it had damaged a fetlock. The children were fascinated by the horses but Lithin warned them all: "Don't come near him – he's in pain and very bad-tempered. I'm going to the kitchen to prepare a poultice." And after the two elves had given their horses a quick rub-down, they disappeared off into the farmhouse.

The children were now feeling sleepy in the sun and were playing quietly. This is easy, thought Lostwithiel. But Challis needed to prepare a meal for later that evening and asked him if he could look after both children for a short time. "No problem," said Lostwithiel, full of new confidence. Beren and Rosie played happily for a few minutes after Challis had disappeared inside and then Rosie threw a toy off the grass and onto the gravel. With an indignant exclamation, Beren got up and toddled after it, but, as he reached the gravel path, he tripped and fell, letting out a yell of pain.

With a muttered expletive and a guilty feeling that he had let Challis down, Lostwithiel leaped to his feet and ran to help the crying boy. When he lifted Beren from the ground, he saw that he had cut his knee and he fumbled for a handkerchief and began dabbing at the blood whilst making soothing noises. In the end, Beren's crying changed to erratic gulps and sniffs. Better take them both in, thought the elf, and let Challis see to it. But, when he turned, there was no sign of Rosie – anywhere.

Absolutely terrified, he yelled for Challis, ran for her front door and thrust the bemused Beren into his mother's arms as she appeared there. "Rosie's gone!" he gasped.

He ran across the lawn with arms and legs wildly flailing. "Rosie!" he yelled. At that moment, he heard a neighing from the stable and then, to his horror, saw that the door was ajar. It was at this point that he knew for a certainty where Rosie had gone. He flung the stable door open – and then stopped in his tracks. Lithin's horse, tied up in one of the horse boxes with its rump towards him, was fidgeting and trying to rear. Its fetlock hurt and it knew there was something down there, between its legs. It was Rosie, of course, trapped beneath the horse and looking very frightened. Lostwithiel plunged forward, bent down and grabbed her. But the horse, sensing a new danger at its rear, rolled its eyes and lashed out with a hoof. As the elf pulled his daughter to safety, the hoof clipped his forehead and, stunned, he reeled away, falling backwards in the straw with Rosie clasped in his arms.

The blood trickled down into his left eye but he managed to crawl away to safety, just as Lithin, with Challis and Beren peering anxiously over his shoulder, rushed to his aid. Back in the family quarters, Challis repaired the damage whilst Lithin looked after the children. Lostwithiel was distraught. "She could have been killed and it would have been all my fault," he cried.

"Don't be too hard on yourself," said Challis soothingly. "You need eyes in the back of your head when you're a parent. And no harm has been done."

"Except to my head," said the elf, pulling a face.

It was late afternoon by then. "I think the best thing," said Challis, "is if I make Rosie some hot milk and you a sandwich. And then you can carry her down the hill on your shoulder to bring up any wind. Too much food might make her sick again. Lithin will come with you and move her upstairs cot from her bedroom to yours where you can reach her easily if she wakes in the night. Then both of you should try to get a good night's sleep."

.o00o.

Pt IV

Rosie was practically asleep on her father's shoulder as they reached the manor. Lithin did the furniture removals and wished his captain good luck before he left. Then Lostwithiel changed his daughter into her nightgown and put her down in her cot where she immediately fell into a deep and exhausted slumber. After that, he got ready for bed himself and, with a throbbing head, crawled between the sheets. They both slept heavily for hours but, just before dawn, she began to stir. Bleary-eyed, the elf picked her up and brought her into bed with him and they both fell fast asleep again.

It was mid-morning and they were still dead to the world when Poppy came home. Rose had made a good recovery the previous evening and so Poppy, anxious to see both her husband and her child, had set out for her manor at the crack of dawn. The house was unexpectedly quiet when she opened the front door. She felt suddenly anxious. Surely they're up by now, she thought? She mounted the stairs to their bedroom and was met by the sight of her husband sprawled across the coverlet whilst their daughter snored gently on his chest. They both looked so sweet together that she stood in the doorway and watched them for a while until Lostwithiel finally stirred and opened his eyes.

"I'm glad you're back," he smiled.

"I'm glad I'm back too," said Poppy, returning his smile.

.o00o.

_(Lostwithiel was too lost in thought, remembering the past, and didn't notice that Thorin had placed a hand on his shoulder. "Did that really happen?" asked the dwarf. It was late evening and everyoneelse had gone to bed, leaving the elf to his typing. _

"_Yes," said Lostwithiel, lifting a lock of golden hair to reveal a silvery scar almost hidden under the hair-line. "At the time, I told Poppy that I had cut my head, bending down to retrieve Rosie from under the kitchen table. Now she'll know differently and I'll probably be in trouble again."_

"_Sounds like a bad day," said Thorin quietly._

"_It was even worse than I've described. I hoped that, by moderating the story, I could wipe out some of the memories. But, it hasn't worked and it looks like you can't change the past. I was a hopeless father, you know," was the elf's response._

_Thorin pulled a face. "Then we all are. That story brings back memories of similar awful days when I was left in charge."_

"_Thought you were supposed to be the perfect father," laughed the elf lord._

"_Well, I was, of course – but only as perfect as it's possible to be when children are involved. You sound very like me in that respect." And the one-time King under the Mountain patted his friend in a kindly fashion on the shoulder and went off to the bedroom where his wife lay waiting for him.)_

.o00o.


	38. Chapter 38 Thorin and his Next Move

And another story, this time about Rosie but also about a problem that Thorin has with living in the Undying Lands. That dwarf is such a malcontent!

My husband was a bit bothered that he couldn't quite remember who certain minor characters, like Lithin and Challis, were from past chapters. I thought I had given enough reminders but he likes to know PRECISELY how everyone has so far fitted into the story and he felt quite distracted. Hope that a failure to recollect doesn't affect my readers here. Just in case: Lithin and Challis were two of Tauriel's soldiers at the outpost in Thorin Sorts Things Out who married each other and finally had a child called Beren a couple of years before Poppy had Rosie. Evanuil, Seleth and Favreen were three of the young elves who pestered Thorin when he first arrived in the Undying Lands in Thorin Amongst the Elves but who eventually became his friends and "followers". Hope you enjoy this.

.o00o.

All About Thorin….And Everyone Else

Thorin and his Next Move

Pt I

Thorin went to bed in a thoughtful mood. His brow was furrowed and he lay on his back, staring into the darkness. Feeling only a slight concern, Tauriel slipped an arm around her husband's waist.

"A silver penny for them," she whispered.

"Umm," he replied, rather vacantly.

"Sounds as though you need a bit of cheering up," she continued, nibbling the lobe of his ear.

"Umm," he repeated.

After a few moments when there was no further response from him, she tugged her husband firmly and rolled him towards her. Gently, she began brushing her lips against his and waited for the usual passionate response. But, he released an almost weary sigh before climbing on top of her. Tauriel blinked. It almost felt as though he were doing his duty. Five minutes later, just as she was beginning to forget the sigh and had started to enjoy herself, Thorin suddenly rolled away and sat up in bed.

"Is this it, then?" he asked.

The abrupt transition from love-making to question-out-of-the-blue threw the elf completely and all she could think to say was, "What?!"

"Is this it?" he repeated with a lugubrious sigh. "No orcs to fight, no dragons to slay, no borders to defend, no great evil to overcome? No PURPOSE to my life?"

And then Tauriel thought she understood: there was no action for her man of action. He had waited and waited for that last ship to arrive from the Grey Havens with his family on board and now that it had come, the final objective had been achieved…..and it was not enough.

"But," said Tauriel, challenging this thought, "aren't you content that we are here in a safe, beautiful environment, with your family happily living around you? Isn't it enough? ... Am I not enough?"

The silence opened up between them and it made the elf anxious and edgy.

"I know I shouldn't think," the dwarf said hesitantly…

"No, you shouldn't!" snapped his wife. "It never gets you anywhere and only leads to trouble!" And, with that, she got out of bed, flung a robe around her and stomped from the room.

Thorin looked up in surprise. He had expected some comfort and understanding from her. Tauriel wasn't usually into stomping – that was his territory. And he hastily scrambled into his own robe and followed her from the room.

He found her staring blankly out of a window at the glittering stars. Tears were sliding down her cheeks. Feeling dreadful for causing her pain, Thorin slid his arms around her and pulled her back against his powerful chest, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he said gruffly.

"Saying 'sorry' doesn't change anything," she gulped. "You're dissatisfied with your life here. It's a total rejection of all that I've given you – immortality, the children, me. For goodness' sake, what more do you want,Thorin!? Would you prefer to be dead, like Rose?"

Ooof! That was a below the belt wallop, thought Thorin, and he sucked in his breath. But, Tauriel never cried and Thorin felt like a villain for provoking her into making such a remark.

"Well," he mumbled, "you know that immortality per se was never important to me. If I hadn't wanted more life with you then I would have rejected my passage on that ship here when I was mortally wounded."

"Yes, it's always about what you want, isn't it?" sniffed Tauriel, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "Isn't it about time you thought about what I want for a change?"

Thorin turned her towards him and held her tightly, his strong arms enfolding her protectively.

"You know I'd do anything for you, Tauriel, and for our children, but I can't change the way I'm feeling. Middle-earth was my home – where I belonged. I can't just exist here – however delightful that existence is: I must find a purpose or my life has no meaning." And he tenderly kissed the top of her head. Any minute now and he would be crying too. And a crying dwarf was not a pretty sight.

"Then we must find you a purpose," she said, looking up at him and gazing into his beautiful blue eyes which now looked sad and deeply troubled. "We have the perfect tool in the laptop. We can make of our lives whatever we wish."

"Can we conjure up an orc raiding party, then," he asked wryly, "so that I can save my family and be the hero of the hour?"

"Sorry," she smiled back, "but orcs just don't exist in the Undying Lands. And would you really want to introduce evil into such a perfect place?"

"You're no fun," he whispered, kissing her throat. "So, what are you suggesting?"

She wrinkled her brow thoughtfully for a moment.

"And if you can't think of any suggestions," he continued huskily, "perhaps I can come up with a few." Then he bent and picked her up in his arms.

"I'm afraid, Thorin," she laughed, "that it's your turn to wait. You can carry me as far as the laptop," she said and she nodded to the table.

"Spoil sport!" he grumbled but he knew that they had to get this sorted out and he carried her to a dining room chair. She pulled the laptop towards her and opened it. And then she turned to him and took his hand in both of hers.

"You can always find a purpose in life, "she said. "And it doesn't have to be as dramatic as fighting orcs. There are always things to be sorted out within our own family. As soon as one difficult problem is dealt with then another one rears its head."

He brought her hands to his lips and kissed them. "But you're the one who usually sorts out the family problems, Tauriel."

"What are you saying, Thorin?" she asked with a laugh. "That you'll leave little family problems to be sorted out by women? And are you saying something about women, I wonder?"

He cupped her cheek in his large hand. "Now, stop being naughty, Tauriel," he rumbled. "You know I didn't mean that. You're just cleverer than I am, that's all." And seeing her eyes dance, he couldn't resist kissing her.

The kiss was long and lingering but, when she finally drew away, she said: "Well, if it takes intelligence to sort out family problems, shouldn't you see them as a challenge? And shouldn't your purpose be to make your family as happy as possible?"

Thorin threw up his hands. "All right, you win," he grinned. "But, as far as I know, we haven't got any problems at the moment – which is why I've had too much time to think."

"Well, how about Rosie?" she asked. "I think she yearns for a partner, especially after Arion came home with Mary Sue. Sorting out your granddaughter's love-life could be a tremendous challenge. What do you think?"

"Yes, and writing the story could take all night," he complained. "And, at the moment, I'm thinking of better things we could be doing."

"So, what if it does take all night?" returned the elf. "You can always compensate for things after finishing this story by writing another one about how we come to spend a whole week in bed. All you've got to do is think of a reason for it."

"Hmm," said Thorin with a lustful twinkle in his eye. "I'll think about it whilst I'm typing. Pass me that laptop."

.o00o.

Pt II

Thorin and his Next Move

"Ow!" yelped Beren, as his mother brushed his hair vigorously. "I'm not a child any more – I can do that." And he snatched the brush from her hand.

"Well," said Challis, "I'm just making sure that you look respectable for your visit up to the forge." And she tugged his jerkin straight and brushed an invisible piece of fluff from his shoulder.

"But, it's only Rosie," he muttered, "and she doesn't expect me to look all shiny and new!"

"But, it's also Thorin and Tauriel," pursued his mother, "and they're meeting you for the first time. I want you to make a good impression."

Beren shook off her smoothing, patting fingers. "They're only her grandparents," he muttered. "A couple of old fuddy-duddies, I should imagine – and one of them's a dwarf. Why is it so important to impress them?"

Challis grinned. "You'll know when you see them," she said. "Now, be off with you or you'll be late." And she pushed him out the door.

Beren looked sulky as he climbed down from the platform of the tree house, one of those allotted to the new arrivals close to the harbour after they had disembarked from the last ship from the Grey Havens. All his life, he had heard nothing but reminiscences about the Oakenshields – Thorin this and Tauriel that. Anyone would think that they were the greatest heroes of Middle-earth. And yet they hadn't even fought in the War of the Ring and had left before he was born. He could understand Rosie's interest in meeting her grandparents at long last but why the others went on and on about these two he would never know.

Of course, he was looking forward to meeting up with Rosie again. They hadn't seen each other since the ship had docked and he missed her. They had grown up together at the outpost, had become part of the elven troop there once they were old enough and had fought side by side against increasing orc attacks as the Darkness fell. She was his best friend, although he had also been close to her uncle Arion, another of the soldiers at the outpost. He was looking forward to seeing both of them again.

He smiled to himself as he rode his horse up the hillside towards the forge. They had got into so much mischief when they were young, along with Aunt Rose's young children. "No wonder you were named after me," Rosie's aunty had said to her as she and Arion had extricated them all from yet another load of trouble. "Those were the days," he grinned to himself. But they were long gone: Rose was dead and her husband and children had moved to Minas Tirith after the War. However, Rosie remained and she was an important part of his life.

Rosie saw him coming and, as he dismounted, hurtled out of the house to greet him. Beren picked her up, whirled her around and then started to tickle her. She folded up with laughter and then fell to the ground, shrieking, "Stop it! Stop it!" They rolled on the grass together, Rosie trying to escape and Beren crawling after her, until a long shadow fell over them. Rosie looked up and gasped, "Grandfather!" leaping to her feet and hastily brushing down her clothes. He had just come from his forge after hearing the commotion.

Beren got to his feet more slowly. So, this was the famous Thorin Oakenshield? And he had to admit that he was quite taken aback. The dwarf was dirty from his work in the forge but, the young elf thought, he had the sort of presence that stopped you in your tracks. His long, black hair fell about his shoulders in a tousled mass, just like Arion's; his penetrating, blue eyes seemed to look deep down into his own; his posture was assured and kingly; and he was extraordinarily good-looking. But, his arms…! Goodness, thought Beren! No wonder he was renowned for his fighting with sword and axe. And he suddenly recognised that he was standing in the presence of a great warrior.

He bowed his head to Thorin in acknowledgement: "Beren, son of Lithin," he said. "It's a pleasure to meet you at last, sir." And he held out a hand.

Thorin looked him up and down for a moment and raised an eyebrow. Suddenly, Beren wished he had made a more sedate entrance. Then the dwarf grinned and clasped him by the forearm. "I would never have guessed," he laughed. "What are these doing on an elf?" And he squeezed one of Beren's biceps.

The elf flushed. He was broader than the average elf and his arms were not as lithe; in fact, the bulge of his muscles there made him look more like a man, even with his long, blond hair. "I trained with sword and axe from a very young age," he offered in way of explanation. "Our captain, Lostwithiel, was very keen for us to learn the dwarven style of fighting and, since I started on weight-lifting as a child so that I could handle these weapons easily, I suppose that I developed a non-standard elven musculature."

Thorin nodded in approval and turned to his granddaughter. "And did you learn to use an axe, too?" he asked with a grin, not expecting the answer he got.

"Of course I did," said Rosie. "Aunty Rose forged a slightly smaller one for me…..But just you look!" And she flexed her arm so that her biceps bulged in a totally unladylike way.

Thorin let out a roar of laughter. "Well!" he exclaimed. "I am truly flattered that my training at the outpost has lived on down the generations!" And he gave her a fond hug.

Just then Tauriel came out to join them. "You must be Beren," she smiled. "I did so enjoy working with your parents all that time ago."

Beren turned towards her and felt just as floored by Tauriel as he had been by Thorin. This grandmother was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen! Rosie saw his jaw drop and a look of adoration come into his eyes and, for some reason, felt a little annoyed. "Don't gawp!" she snapped, digging him in the ribs. "Or my grandfather will become jealous and bop you on the nose."

Thorin grinned. "Well, yes," he laughed. "She really is worth gawping at. But, I'm afraid she's already taken." And he slipped an arm possessively around Tauriel's waist.

Tauriel laughed too. "And I appreciate any compliment I can get these days, Beren, especially since I'm such an old lady."

Beren blushed because Tauriel had guessed at what his thoughts must have been before he had met her. But Thorin bowed towards the front door and he was ushered into the house amidst their kindly laughter.

.o00o.

Pt III

Arion was waiting for him inside and there was much back-slapping. He was introduced to Mary Sue and he was intrigued to meet this pretty, sweet girl from another world. Then Lostwithiel and Poppy turned up from the tree house and there was even more good-natured bantering.

"Tauriel's made up a picnic," said Thorin, "and we've invited some of the young people from the elven settlement just below us to join you. I'm sure you'll all have fun together."

"Ah, yes," said Lostwithiel. "Your little friends, Thorin. I've heard all about them."

"Not so little any more," retorted the dwarf. "They've matured nicely and are, in fact, older than Beren and Rosie….Not that you'd know that sometimes from their behaviour."

Soon, Evanuil, Seleth and the elf-girl, Favreen, were knocking at the door and they shyly entered. Thorin, looking at Rosie, Beren and his group of "little friends", thought they were a striking bunch. They should all get along very nicely, he mused to himself. Tauriel handed out packs of food and bottles of wine whilst Thorin directed them to the picnic spot by the lake just over the hill beyond the forge. "Just don't ask Seleth to sing," he advised, "or that might spoil your day."

"And don't drown yourselves in the lake, either," added Arion, giving Mary Sue a look as he remembered how he had fished her out of the water.

The five of them set off on horseback, chatting together and getting to know each other.

"Have a good day," Thorin shouted after them.

.o00o.

Beren found himself riding alongside Favreen. She was very pretty, of course, but she also had a winning manner and he rather liked the way that she smiled shyly up at him from under her long lashes. It made a change from Rosie who, like her mother, had always been so confident. Rosie was the type who looked you straight in the eyes and often seemed to be laughing at you rather than with you. Favreen, on the other hand, wanted to know all about his time up at the outpost and his battles with the orcs. He laughed and told her stories about his adventures and she gazed up at him with admiration and awe on her face. It gave him a nice feeling.

They all plodded along carefully: only Beren and Rosie were skilled riders and they were also on the lookout for rabbit holes. Unfortunately, although they managed to avoid the holes, they didn't avoid the rabbits. Suddenly, one leaped out in front of the horses and then scuttled away. Beren's horse danced and snorted but he quickly brought it under control. Farvreen's reared, however, nearly throwing her off: she lost the reins and then her horse bolted with the young elf clutching hold of its mane.

"Come on!" yelled Rosie, galloping past Beren. And then they were both off in hot pursuit. Favreen didn't get far before Rosie overtook her and Beren drew alongside. Rosie, Poppy's daughter, leaned precariously from her saddle and grasped the loose reins, steadily dragging the spooked horse to a halt. As soon as they stopped, Beren leaped to the ground and held out his arms to the terrified Favreen. Shaking like a leaf, she slid from her saddle and fell upon his comforting breast. Then she started crying. Beren did a good job of soothing her, stroking her hair and murmuring in her ear. A tad too much murmuring, Rosie began to think, and she stepped forward and gently prised the pretty elf firmly – rather too firmly – out of Beren's arms and put her own arms about her shoulders.

"Feeling better?" she asked, in a slightly impatient voice. "Let me help you back on your horse." And she tugged the mount forward.

"No, I can't, I really can't!" said Favreen in a scared voice. "He'll throw me, I just know he will."

What a wet girl, thought Rosie. "Well, are you going to walk then?" she asked rather curtly.

"No, of course not," smiled Beren. And he helped her up onto his own horse and then mounted behind her. "You don't mind looking after Favreen's horse?" he said to Rosie. And, yes, she did but she had no choice but to remount her own horse and lead the other behind her. Her only consolation was that Evanuil and Seleth were full of admiration for her daring deed, although she did think that some thanks from Favreen wouldn't have gone amiss.

They ambled down the hill towards the lake with Rosie grumpily noticing that Beren seemed to be sitting a bit too snugly behind Favreen. Then she shook herself. What was she? A dog in a manger? Didn't she want her best friend to have a bit of fun? And, by the time they reached their picnic spot, her good humour had been restored again.

They had found a lovely glade, close to the water and beneath the trees. Evanuil and Seleth gathered some wood together, Beren expertly started a camp fire whilst the girls set out the food on a white tablecloth. Then they all sat down with a glass of wine, their backs resting against the trunks of the trees. Rosie was pleased when Beren chose to come and sit with her, lying down on the grass and resting his head companionably in her lap.

"Comfortable?" she laughed at him, brushing back his blond hair from his forehead; and Beren grinned up at her, his green eyes flashing like emeralds in the sun.

"Very," he said, and, for a moment, his lips seemed to curve wickedly. And she couldn't stop herself but bent down and kissed him on the nose.

"Missed," he said softly.

And suddenly, Favreen was shoving a plate between them. "Sandwich?" she asked.

Beren sat up with a grin and began to devour the picnic food. Rosie felt annoyed when Favreen joined them, monopolising his attention by asking a whole series of flattering questions. She decided that she was fed up with the view of the back of Beren's head and tried to divert everyone's attention by talking about the lake. She told them how Arion had saved Mary Sue from the water and how she had been transported there from another world where she had nearly drowned whilst swimming. "Do you swim?" she asked Favreen.

No, she didn't, but she did enjoy a paddle on a hot day like this. And, giving Beren a flirtatious glance, she skipped down to the water's edge, expecting her new interest to join her there. But Rosie was pleased when he chose to stay put and leaned back against the tree, watching Favreen's splashing with a smile playing on his lips.

"She's nice, isn't she?" she asked, probing a little.

"Yes," he said. Which answer was no use at all.

The paddle came to an end and Favreen began to return to the party. But, suddenly she shrieked and began hopping on one foot.

"That girl is so accident prone," sighed Seleth, rolling his eyes. But Beren leaped to his feet and did the gentlemanly thing, lifting her up and carrying her back into the shade. Kneeling by her side, he lifted her foot carefully and examined the sole.

"It's a large splinter," he said. And he raised her foot to his mouth and sucked it out. Favreen's eyelashes fluttered and she let out a long sigh whilst Beren lowered her foot back down into his lap and massaged it for a few minutes.

"Better?" he asked softly. "I see I shall have to look after you before you get into more trouble." And he gave her a seductive smile.

Rosie could have smacked him.

.o00o.

A few dark clouds passed over the sun and Seleth thought it best if they packed up and headed home. Beren placed Favreen before him on his horse once more and off they set. Rosie glowered as the two of them murmured and giggled together and Evanuil, riding next to her, sighed. "It looks as though she's falling for your friend," he said. "And, unfortunately, it looks as though he's falling for her too."

"Why 'unfortunately'?" she asked.

"Well, I've known her all my life and I've always hoped that, in the end, I would be The One. But you know how it is when someone starts off as a friend." And he sighed again.

Yes, Rosie knew. And she had the sudden realisation that she didn't want Beren to fall for Favreen. No, absolutely not. And she wondered why that was.

.o00o.

Pt IV

When they got back to the forge, they all went their separate ways, but not before Favreen had held Beren's hands tightly in her own and had thanked him for his help, all the while gazing most sincerely up into his eyes. Just before they parted, Beren bent down and kissed her cheek. That hurt Rosie more than she expected, especially as he didn't kiss Rosie but just gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder. "See you," he said.

She stood on the porch of the house, watching them all go down the hill until they were out of sight. And then she felt a desperate urge to talk to someone. No-one was in the house and so she followed the sound of hammering coming from the forge.

Thorin looked up and smiled as his granddaughter entered his domain. "Have a good time?" he asked.

"Yes," she said, trying to look cheerful. "No," she said, bursting into tears.

With a sigh, Thorin wiped his hands on a rag, sat on a bench and patted a knee. "Your mother, your aunt and your grandmother always found it very comfortable," he said. And Rosie sat down and buried her wet face in his shoulder.

"It must be about love," he said, gently stroking her hair.

"H-how did you guess?" she blubbed.

He offered her the dirty rag and she blew her nose. "Well, I can't imagine what else it might be about," he said.

And then she told him all about her belated realisation: that she was in love with Beren and always had been. What had been the signs, Thorin wanted to know?

"Well," she managed to get out between sniffs, "first he rode with her and not with me – and I didn't like it. And then he saved her from her spooked horse – well, I did, but she didn't thank me – and then she threw herself at him and cried – and then she rode on his horse with him cuddled up behind her – much too friendly, I thought – and then he lay down with his head in my lap – and – and – it felt so right – and then I kissed him…"

"You did what?"asked Thorin.

"I kissed him – but only on the nose – and he said 'missed' and I thought he might kiss me on the lips but Favreen stuck her plate of sandwiches in the way – and then she got a splinter and he sucked her foot – Yuck!"

"What!" asked Thorin again.

"Well, you know, she got a splinter in her foot and he sucked it out – and they both gave each other such a look!"

"Goodness!" exclaimed Thorin. "Well I never! The things you young people get up to! Sucking out a splinter! Wasn't her foot dirty? Double yuck, I say!" And Rosie just had to giggle.

"And then he rode home with her on his horse again - and then he kissed her goodbye – and - and – he didn't kiss me, just slapped me on the shoulder like a bloke – and - and…." At this point Rosie burst into tears again.

"And you've only just realised that, actually, you're in love with him and you think you're about to lose him to Favreen," said Thorin, patting her back gently.

"Yes, yes," wailed Rosie. "What on earth shall I do?"

Thorin took her into the house and made her a cup of camomile tea. Then he sent her off to his bed with the instructions that she get some sleep. "I'll sort things out, don't you worry," he said in such a voice that Rosie believed him and she soon snuggled into the feather pillows and fell fast asleep.

.o00o.

Thorin strolled thoughtfully down the hill towards Beren's home. He had made his granddaughter a promise when he wasn't sure he could fulfil it. The only thing that gave him confidence was the certainty that Beren must be able to see that he would be happier with Rosie than with Favreen – surely? But men were strange creatures – and elves were even stranger, he snorted to himself. Who knew what drew one person to another? He still hadn't worked out what his own wife saw in him, so perhaps he was reaching a whole bunch of wrong conclusions.

Suddenly, to his surprise, he saw Beren riding back up the hill towards him. The elf reined in his horse and said, "I've done a bad thing, Thorin, and I need to speak with you."

Thorin raised one eyebrow. "And I want to speak with you, lad," he said, and they both drew to one side, into the shade of some trees. Beren dismounted, tied up his horse and pulled a bottle of wine from his pack. "Leftovers from the picnic," he said. "I think we might need it," and they both made themselves comfortable on a couple of fallen tree trunks.

"So, tell me about this bad thing," said Thorin after they had both had a swig of wine.

Beren flushed. "It's quite difficult to explain," he said.

"Spit it out, lad," the dwarf said. "I'm sure it can't be half as awful as the stupid things I've done in my lifetime."

Reassured, Beren cleared his throat. "Well you see, I've known Rosie all my life. But, the trouble is, I've always been in love with her but she's never been in love with me."

Thorin roared with laughter. "Problem solved!" he shouted delightedly. "She's just told me that she is, in fact, in love with you. So, you can both now live happily ever after! Welcome to the family!"

But Beren's face was contorted between pleasure and despair. "But, I've done this bad thing," he repeated.

"For goodness' sake," said Thorin. "What bad thing?"

Beren paused for a moment and then plunged in. "Well, I saw my opportunity today to make Rosie jealous – just a bit of a push, you know. This new girl, Favreen, seemed quite taken with me and so I flirted with her quite openly – in fact, I tried flirting with both of them, just to stir things up. And I did feel it was working."

"Well, it did," laughed Thorin, slapping his thigh. "You clever lad, you. Talk about going for something that you really want. Poor Rosie was positively green and it made her realise that she had pretty strong feelings for you."

"But don't you see," sighed Beren. "I used Favreen and now she's in love with me too. That's the bad thing I did – using someone else for my own ends. This might break her heart – elves only give their love once, you know." And he paused and stared steadily at Thorin.

"Oh no," cried Thorin. "you're not feeling so guilty about this that you're thinking of doing something silly, are you?"

Beren looked at his hands. "I am thinking that perhaps I don't deserve to have Rosie," he said.

"What! And marry Favreen as a punishment to yourself. Idiot! That would only make three people unhappy," Thorin snapped. "Now, come on back to the house and wait outside on the bench. I'll go off and see Favreen and sort this all out for you." Another promise he wasn't sure he could keep, but the young elf willingly unloaded his problems onto the dwarf and they parted company at the elven tree houses.

He found Favreen working on the vegetable patch in the garden . As soon as she saw him, she dashed over. Thorin was one of her favourite people and she had admired him ever since they had first met all those years ago.

"Thorin! Thorin!" she cried. "You must help me! I've done an awful thing and I don't know how to put it right."

"Tell me," said Thorn with a sigh.

"Well, today, I tried to make Evanuil jealous by flirting with Beren and now I'm in a mess and….." But before she could get any further, Thorin seized her grimly by the wrist and dragged her to Evanuil's house. He pulled the bell-rope at the base of the tree and the elf had soon descended to meet them with a puzzled look on his face.

"Evanuil," he said, "do you love Favreen?"

"Er….yes," he said, looking startled.

"And, Favreen," said Thorin , turning to the girl, "do you love Evanuil?"

"Yes," said Favreen, a grin beginning to spread across her face.

"Well, there you go then. Problem sorted," he said, thrusting Favreen's hand into Evanuil's and stomping away up the hill towards the forge.

"But what about Beren?" she called after him.

"Oh, didn't I tell you?" he called back over his shoulder. "Beren's marrying Rosie. Perhaps you ought to plan for a double wedding."

When he got back to his house, it was to find Rosie kissing Beren on the doorstep. "She woke up," he said. And they both laughed happily. "But, is it all sorted with Favreen?"

"Yes, she's marrying Evanuil," said Thorin, "so you can both cheer up. And now," he added, "I am going to make myself a nice cup of tea. Thank me later." And he marched into the house.

"Kids! Who'd have 'em?" he muttered to himself, as he closed the kitchen door behind him.

.o00o.

_("Oh, Thorin, you old romantic!" laughed Tauriel, bending over her husband's shoulder and kissing him on the cheek. "I'm sure that Rosie will be more than pleased with the way you've fixed her love-life."_

"_Yes," smiled Thorin. "I really like that Beren. He'll fit in well in this family._

"_And that wouldn't be anything to do with the hero-worship of you that you've written into his character, by any chance?" she asked._

"_Well, I did play fair by making him think you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Made me a bit jealous, to tell the truth," he added, "but he wasn't lying, of course." Thorin stood up and took her in his arms._

"_Now is it permitted for me to carry my wife to our bedroom so that we can spend hours making mad, passionate love?" he asked with a quirky grin._

"_What? Only for a few hours? I thought that you were going to write a story giving us a reason to spend a whole week in bed." And she teasingly pulled one of his plaits._

"_Still working on that," he whispered huskily as he swept her away to his bed.)_

.o00o.


	39. Chapter 39 In Bed with Thorin and Taurie

Happy birthday, yelloweee! This one's for you.

Another lap-top story, based on a passing remark that Thorin made in the last episode where he had the idea of him and Tauriel spending a week in bed together. But how do you tell your children that you fancy having sex for a week without any interruptions from the family? It was Thorin who intended to write this story - but who will actually get hold of the laptop?

.o00o.

All About Thorin….And Everyone Else

In Bed with Thorin and Tauriel

Pt I

Thorin and Tauriel opened their eyes wearily to meet the new day. It had become the custom for the entire family to meet up for breakfast at the forge and the elf and dwarf had found themselves lumbered with the task of rising early and preparing food for everyone.

"I never knew how lucky I was," said Thorin as he crawled out of bed. "All those years when we only had ourselves to worry about and the only thing that we had to get up for was the pressing desire to see if any new ship had arrived from the Grey Havens. I just never made the most of it." And he nuzzled Tauriel's neck and pecked her on the cheek.

Tauriel stretched tiredly and began to get dressed. "Well, in the end," she said, "they'll build their own houses and we won't be responsible for them any more. But don't hold your breath. I get the feeling that they're feeling quite comfortable with the current set-up." And she thought how Arion and Mary Sue were tucked up in the guest room, Beren and Rosie had made themselves some soft mattresses in the stables and Lostwithiel and Poppy were only a short distance down the hill in an elven tree house. "I suppose," she continued, "that it's very nice that they want to spend so much time with us but the amount of mothering I'm doing – not to mention the cooking and the sheet washing – is beginning to wear me out."

They stumbled into the kitchen and Thorin began to sort out plates and pots and frying pans whilst Tauriel dug out the bread, eggs and bacon. "Perhaps we ought to write another story to make life easier for ourselves," she said as she cracked some eggs into a cup.

"Mmm," said Thorin thoughtfully.

They were so lost in thought that they didn't hear the front door quietly open. It had been a very windy night and Poppy and Lostwithiel had finally abandoned their swaying tree house and had decided to come up the hill for an early breakfast. "They're bound to be up," said Poppy. "They always are." But they entered quietly anyway, just in case. Poppy could hear some movement in the kitchen where the door was ajar and the sound of her parents talking together. And then, for some reason, as she caught the gist of what they were saying, she pressed a warning finger to her lips and they both strained to overhear the conversation.

"Yes, let's write a new story," she heard her mother say. "What about that idea we had to do with spending a whole week in bed together? Have you made any progress?"

"Not, really," replied her father. "I can't think of a sensible reason to explain to them all why we would need a week in bed together – only embarrassing ones." He chuckled softly and then there was silence. And Poppy could clearly imagine just what they were up to during that pause.

"Mmm," murmured Tauriel at last. "I could really do with a week of that."

"And what about another week of this," whispered Thorin. Once more there was a dramatic pause. Lostwithiel grinned at his wife, but Poppy squirmed and turned pink.

"What about if we write a story," Tauriel continued, "where we're both ill? That would give us a good reason to go to bed for a week."

"Nope," grunted Thorin, not convinced. "I doubt that anyone would think we were telling the truth – people just don't get ill in this place. And, even if we could convince them that we were ill, they would be in and out all the time, checking to see if we were all right. How could I have my wicked way with you if that were happening?" And he gave a quiet, suggestive chuckle that turned Poppy even pinker.

"Well, what about organising a holiday – far away – for all of them? They'd be gone for more than a week then, I reckon, exploring their new environment," suggested Tauriel.

"That's a pretty good idea," exclaimed Thorin. "Just think of the fun we could have if we had more than a week together." And the silence descended again.

"Or," murmured Thorin – and Poppy could hear the sound of little, smacky kisses interspersing his words – "we could tell them the truth – sort of."

"Mmm," her mother murmured back, and the smacky kisses continued. "What sort of truth?"

"Well, we could just be blunt and say we were very tired and that we needed a break and that we didn't want to see hide nor hair of them for a week. Knowing how they view their elderly parents, I'm pretty convinced that they would think we were sleeping through that time."

Poppy turned to her husband. "Those two are just SO embarrassing!" she whispered.

Lostwithiel laughed softly. "I think I can give them what they want," he whispered back, "but I shall need to borrow the laptop for that." And he picked up the laptop from the table, tucked it under his arm, and made a hasty retreat from the forge.

Poppy and 'Thiel hurried down the hill together. "You're not really going to give them what they want?" grumbled Poppy, still flushed red from her eaves-dropping. "It's about time those two started acting their age. Perhaps you can write a story in which they both suddenly discover the virtues of sexual restraint."

"And when are you going to discover this virtue, O mother of a grown-up daughter?" asked the elf, one eyebrow quirked cheekily.

"It's different for us," snapped Poppy. "I'm still relatively young."

"What's relative?" grinned her husband. "I'm the same age as your mother and a lot older than your father and we all appear to have drunk from the fountain of youth since arriving in this place. When's the right time to stop?"

Poppy was beginning to look very bad-tempered. "If it were your parents we were discussing, I'm sure you wouldn't be talking this way," she said. "I could just DIE when I think about them together!"

"Well, just don't think about it then," the elf lord laughed. But then he felt sorry for her, stopped his teasing and gave her a hug. "Don't worry," he said. "I owe Thorin one for interfering in our love life when he wrote that story about Mary Sue. I think it's about time to pay him back." And he pulled her down in the shade of their tree house and started typing.

.o00o.

Pt II

In Bed with Thorin and Tauriel

As had become the norm, everyone was gathered together for breakfast around Thorin's table. They chattered and laughed and thanked Tauriel as she placed a feast upon the table.

"Fantastic," exclaimed Lostwithiel. "You always knew how to cook, Tauriel."

"And my father's not too shabby with a frying-pan either," laughed Arion. "I always remember him helping out in the kitchen from when I was a child."

Thorin plonked the teapot down on the table. "Your mother's got something to say," he announced rather curtly.

Everyone's eyes turned curiously towards her. Tauriel sat down slowly. "I'm very tired," she said. And, for the first time, they all looked properly at her and noticed the shadows under her eyes. Suddenly, her children, her granddaughter and their partners felt rather guilty. Tauriel was their mother figure: she looked after people. And they had casually let her look after them with no thought as to the effort that was involved.

"Oh, grandmother," cried Rosie, leaping to her feet and throwing her arms around her, "we'll look after you from now on, don't you worry. We'll all take turns to cook breakfast so that you don't have to get out of bed so early in the morning." And she gave her a big kiss.

Everyone else nodded enthusiastically. "I always used to help my mother with breakfast," said Beren, "and me and Rosie and Lostwithiel all had plenty of cooking practice up at the outpost."

"And I did a load of housework when I was at home," said Mary Sue. "You must sit back and let us help you." And there was a general murmur of agreement.

Tauriel smiled at them all. "It's very kind of you," she said, "but Thorin and I need a complete break for a short time."

Thorin leaned forward and took Tauriel's hand. "Yes, what we want you to do is just go away for a week so that your mother and I can cast off all responsibility and have a real rest. Perhaps Arion and Mary Sue can go and stay with Poppy and Thiel in their tree house; and how if Beren and Rosie go and spend time with his parents? I'm sure they'd like that. And then, when you come back, that's when we can make arrangements for you to help with the cooking and housework."

They all nodded enthusiastically. It sounded like a good plan. And anything to give Thorin and Tauriel a proper break.

And so everyone ate breakfast and chatted away, discussing the sort of things that Thorin and Tauriel could do with their time on their little holiday. Picnic spots were suggested, scenic horse rides were recommended and relaxing exercises were demonstrated on the sitting-room carpet. Only Lostwithiel sat back with a twinkle in his eye.

When the plates had been cleared and the young people had righteously done the washing-up, everyone finally got ready to leave. "And," said Thorin on the doorstep, "we don't want to see any of you for a week: no checking out to see if we're all right; no little trips with baskets of food; no worrying of any kind. If we need you, we'll come for you."

"Yes, father/grandfather/Thorin," they all chanted dutifully and then they left with a cheerful wave. Lostwithiel lingered behind. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he said mischievously to Thorin; and, with a dig in the ribs, he went off whistling down the hill.

.o00o.

Thorin and Tauriel breathed a great sigh as they closed the door behind their son-in-law.

"Do you think he's guessed?" asked Tauriel.

"Of course he has," said Thorin, rolling his eyes. "But, don't worry. The rest of them will stop him from coming should he suggest a visit." Then he turned to Tauriel and took her in his arms. "I just don't believe," he smiled, "that we've got the place to ourselves for a week."

"Hmm, what shall we do with ourselves?" she grinned. "Horse-riding? A nice walk? A picnic? Or perhaps some relaxing exercises."

"I'm relaxed enough, my love," he murmured, kissing her neck and pulling at the cords on her robe.

But she held his hand. "We've got all week," she whispered. "We don't have to scrabble around or rush at things. I've got the copper on, boiling up the water for a bath. Let's just luxuriate in the time we have on our hands.

Thorin was a little charged up but knew that Tauriel was right: if you took things slowly, then the bigger the prize at the end. There was a large tin bath hanging on the wall outside and they brought it in and placed it in front of the fire. Then they ladled the hot water from the copper into buckets and, plodding backwards and forwards, they emptied it into the bath. It was a time-consuming process but they knew it would be worth it. Finally, Tauriel emptied a vial of sweet-smelling perfume into the water and everything was ready.

"Now will you let me help you off with your clothes," he said huskily, once more tugging at the cords. He pulled the ties undone, opened her robe and slid the silky material from her shoulders, burying his face in her neck. "Oh, Tauriel," he groaned.

There was a sharp knock at the door.

Thorin looked furious. "I don't believe it," he said. "I'll kill them!" And, pulling his own robe tightly about him, he marched to the door and flung it open.

"Gandalf!" he croaked.

"Thorin," said Gandalf calmly. "Nearly time for lunch, I believe." And he swept past him into the room where Tauriel was desperately struggling back into her robe.

"Gandalf!" she gasped.

"Tauriel, my dear," he said, leaning forward to peck her on the cheek and not seeming to notice her state of disarray. Then his eyes slid past her. "A bath!" he exclaimed. "How wonderful! Did you see me coming?"

"No," said Thorin rather curtly. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Well," said the old wizard, "we haven't socialised properly since that ship came in and I thought it would be nice to have a bit of a visit. I've just ridden twenty miles – I've been on the go for hours. And what a wonderful surprise!" And he flung an arm in the direction of the bath. "You don't mind if I use it before lunch, do you?" he added. "I'm feeling pretty dusty. And it's politer to sit up to the table when you're nice and clean, isn't it?" And, without waiting for an answer, he removed his cloak and began to disrobe.

They both gawped at him for a moment and then they hurried into the bedroom to get dressed. "What a start to our week," muttered Thorin, pulling on a shirt. "You go and make lunch, Tauriel. The sooner we feed him, the sooner we'll probably get rid of him. Now I'll just go and help him before the old duffer slips on the soap and kills himself."

"You can't kill yourself in the Undying Lands," said Tauriel.

"I wish," growled Thorin and stomped from the room.

.o00o.

Pt III

But, although they dropped many a hint as they sat around the table during lunch, Gandalf just didn't seem to pick up on any of them. And when he had polished off a sizeable meal, he said: "I'll just sit outside with my pipe, Thorin, whilst you two have a tidy" – and he gestured to the cold water in the bath – "and then you can come and blow smoke rings with me whilst we reminisce and Tauriel washes up." They both could have slapped him.

When Thorin was finally sitting outside on the bench with Gandalf, trying to make polite conversation but thinking all the while of warm baths and tantalising perfumes and soft skin, he finally brought himself to ask when the wizard was thinking of returning home to his retreat up in the hills. "You won't want to leave it too late," he pressed, "or it will be dark before you make it back."

"Seems a shame to rush things," mused the wizard, stroking his beard, "after I've come all this way. I think the best idea is for me to stay the night and set out tomorrow morning."

Thorin went to break the news to Tauriel and she sighed and began to get out more food for the evening meal. "Don't get in a state," she said. "He's a good friend: let's make him feel comfortable and then make up for lost time once he's gone tomorrow." Well, it was the only thing they could do, but Gandalf continued to irritate when he announced that he didn't want to use the guest bedroom but preferred a mattress in front of the fire. "You appreciate a fire at night at my age he said," with a smile. "Sorry to be such a nuisance."

"No problem," said Thorin between gritted teeth.

But once he and Tauriel were shut away in their bedroom that night, he threw himself bad-temperedly on the bed and hissed in a hushed voice: "That really does it! Now we can't even make love in the privacy of our own bedroom because the walls are too thin."

"We can try," said Tauriel.

"The triumph of optimism over experience," sulked Thorin. "You know it's not on. There's nothing wrong with his hearing and I shan't be able to – you know – if I keep thinking of him only yards away."

And so, "you know" never happened that night although they lay there feeling very wound up for a long time. On top of that, Gandalf had announced that he wanted an early breakfast and, as usual, they found themselves staggering from their bed and into the kitchen at the crack of dawn. But, after breakfast, he chatted and smoked his pipe and admired the view forever, it seemed. In the end, Thorin fetched and saddled his horse and stood waiting pointedly with the steed until he finally, FINALLY, took the hint and left. "Lovely to see you again!" he called as he trotted away. "We must do it again."

"Not if I can help it," muttered Thorin.

.o00o.

Tauriel and Thorin collapsed upon the bed. "I'm so tired," said Tauriel, "and the day's already wearing on. I got so little sleep last night."

"Just come and lie on my shoulder for a bit," said Thorin. "Then, when we've had a rest, perhaps we shall feel ready for a bit of relaxed love-making. I've been thinking about it ever since we got that bath ready yesterday, so I've got a lot of love stored up," he growled. And Tauriel giggled and snuggled up to her husband, slipping her hand inside his shirt and resting it over his heart.

"Just five minutes," she said, yawning…

Four hours later, they woke with a start as yet someone else hammered on the door.

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" she muttered, getting dazedly to her feet, and poking a groaning Thorin.

"Is that Gandalf back again?" he asked. "Just tell him to go away." And he pulled the pillow over his head.

But, when she opened the door, she was startled to find Bilbo on the doorstep. Thorin came up behind her and peered over her shoulder. "Bilbo?" he said. "Is there a problem?"

The little hobbit blinked. "No, no problem," he said. "But it was such a lovely afternoon that I thought a stroll up from the harbour to pay you a visit wouldn't go amiss." Then he looked at their tousled hair and their sleep-filled eyes. "Have you two been having an afternoon nap?" he asked in that slightly officious voice that Thorin had always found rather irritating. "They're not good for you, you know – interrupt the day and make you feel worse when you wake up. Don't recommend them. You'll be glad later that I knocked on your door." And he made his way past them into the room. He settled himself comfortably and then cheered them up a bit by drawing out a delicious-looking, home-baked chocolate cake from his pack.

"Here you go," he smiled. "Make the tea, Tauriel. What could be nicer than a cup of tea, a slice of cake and a chat with friends?"

Well, Thorin could think of one thing, but chocolate cake came second on the list. And so they sat outside on the bench with their tea and cake and basked in the autumnal sun. They spoke about the children and they spoke about the War of the Ring and they grew sleepy in the pleasant warmth. Then Tauriel invited Bilbo to stay for dinner but then, of course, the sun went down and Bilbo eyed the mattress that still lay in front of the fire and asked if he could stay the night and they sighed and said: "Of course you can."

They climbed wearily into bed that night. "Repeat performance, Tauriel?" asked Thorin.

"I think so, my love," said Tauriel. And she gave him a kiss and fell asleep in his arms.

.o00o.

Pt IV

_("Oh, 'Thiel," laughed Poppy as she leaned on his shoulder and read what he was typing. "You're a very naughty boy. They're having even less fun than they would normally have in a week with us hanging around the house. At least they get the nights to themselves with the rest of us tucked out of the way."_

"_So," grinned the elf, "shall I take pity on them?"_

"_Just a little," said Poppy. "I think I can cope with something sedate and suitable for their age group."_

_Lostwithiel shook his head at his wife's prudery and started to type again.)_

Thorin woke up early the next morning and surreptitiously began to undo the laces of Tauriel's night gown. As she slowly surfaced, he hitched up the hem. "Take this off," he whispered.

"I can't," she whispered back. "If I do, then, ten to one, he'll march in here with a cup of tea for us and I shan't know where to look."

And so Thorin decided that half a loaf was better than none and let her nightgown alone. "We can be very, very quiet," he said. And so they made quite restrained love very, very softly until the end when Tauriel had to put her hand over Thorin's mouth to muffle him which rather spoiled the whole experience and brought on a coughing attack.

"Cup of tea?" asked Bilbo, poking his head around the door. "I'd see a physician about that cough if I were you, Thorin."

.o00o.

Bilbo left later that morning after lots of hugs and kisses. "These bachelors show a total lack of understanding," said Thorin, "but he's a dear friend. And the chocolate cake was good."

"Well, shall we start from the beginning again?" said Tauriel. "I've put the water on so let's get the bath tub ready." And they went out into the yard to unhook the bath from the wall once more. But as they began to lift it off its hook, they were brought to a halt by the sight of a tall horseman mounted on a white steed making his way up the hill towards them.

"My favourite person," hissed Thorin.

"Hello, Thranduil," smiled Tauriel. "What are you doing here?"

Thorin just glowered.

"Well," said the handsome elf lord, lately King of Mirkwood, "I just this minute bumped into Bilbo who told me that he had been paying you a visit and I thought it was about time I came to visit too."

"No, no, no!" muttered Thorin under his breath.

"You said something, Thorin?" asked Thranduil with an arch smile, descending gracefully from his horse.

"No," said Thorin.

Thranduil took Tauriel in his arms and then looked to Thorin for permission with a raised eyebrow.

"All right," grumbled the dwarf, "but only a small one."

And Thranduil bent Tauriel backwards in a seductive sweep and planted a lingering kiss on her lips.

"That's enough," Thorin cut in and Thranduil obligingly released her. The one-time King under the Mountain was made to feel like a petty little boy. What was it that was so – so – nettlesome about the elf? It was his arrogance and his superiority, Thorin decided. Was I ever like that, he wondered? Perhaps I was a bit, a long time ago, when I was a young prince and the house of Durin was at the height of its powers and reigned supreme at Erebor….before the dragon came. But pride goes before a fall and he wondered if anything would ever prick Thranduil's confident bubble because nothing had so far.

"Well, are you going to invite me in?" asked Thranduil.

"Come in," said Thorin ungraciously.

"Too kind," murmured the elf lord and his lips twitched.

Tauriel smiled and, taking hold of his hand, led him into the house. "Interesting property," he said, noticing the way it was built into a cave. "Your own design?" he asked Thorin, making it sound as if it wasn't a compliment.

"Mine and Tauriel's," was the response.

Thranduil walked to the window. "And a lovely view too," he added. Thorin wondered when he was going to let go of his wife's hand.

But Tauriel rushed off to the kitchen then to prepare some refreshments. There was still some of Bilbo's chocolate cake left which she offered to the elf, much to her husband's annoyance. I fancied that for my tea, he thought. But, he pulled himself together and, for Tauriel's sake, managed to converse with his one-time enemy in a reasonably civil fashion, although it didn't help that a faintly amused smile always seemed to be playing around Thranduil's beautifully moulded lips.

The elf lord lingered for hours and, in the end, Tauriel asked him to stay for lunch. Why, Tauriel, he thought to himself, why, for goodness' sake? But she did seem to take a lot of pleasure in her old friend's company and so he compressed his lips and indulged in as many pleasantries as he could spit out.

Finally, Thranduil got ready to leave. He indulged in a goodbye kiss that was longer than before because Thorin bit his tongue and decided not to demean himself by interfering. Then he mounted his horse in an athletic leap (what a show-off, thought Thorin) and was gone in a swirl of silver cape.

The dwarf heaved a sigh of relief but Tauriel snapped: "I really don't know why you don't like him. You always verge on the point of being downright rude and you embarrass me!"

I embarrass YOU," said Thorin. "I would suggest that it's you who embarrass ME, indulging in all those passionate kisses – and in front of your own husband too!" And feeling at the end of his tether, he stormed into the house with Tauriel following closely behind.

"If we have a good row, will that make you feel better?" asked Tauriel, sarcasm dripping from her lips.

"Why not?" returned Thorin. "I'm sure you have gone off any intimacy with me ever since your beautiful boyfriend turned up - and a row is as good an excuse as any. He's enough to put anyone off their stroke, one way and another – you and me both."

"If you don't stop ranting on about Thranduil," she exploded, "then I'll…I'll….."

"You'll what?" sneered the dwarf. "Refuse to have sex with me? And from where I was standing, those kisses were as good as the real thing. Nothing left over for me at the moment, I can imagine."

"You KNOW there's nothing between me and Thranduil – and never has been!" exclaimed Tauriel, stamping her foot in frustration.

"No, I don't know," retorted Thorin. "I only have your word for it. And if kisses were any judge of the matter…or the condescending, amused looks he always gives me….or the way you hang onto his every word, not to mention his hand…" And he ground to a halt with anger and disgust written all over him.

Tauriel took a deep breath and then reached out to him. "Thorin," she said pleadingly. But he glared and flinched away from her touch, shrugging off her hand from his shoulder.

Tauriel stood motionless for a moment. "You….you…brat!" she finally exclaimed. And then she turned on her heel, stalked off to their bedroom, slammed the door behind her and locked it.

Thorin stood sullenly for a moment in the middle of the room. Then he grabbed his pipe and went outside to sit on the bench. Well, that was their supposed week of love-making brought absolutely and completely to a halt. He blew smoke rings and tormented himself with thoughts of Thranduil and Tauriel together over hundreds and hundreds of years. How could things NOT have happened in all that time? And yet he knew, deep down, that they hadn't. But, for some reason, he found perverse pleasure in tormenting himself with these thoughts and he didn't know why. Was it because he enjoyed the intensity of making up with Tauriel afterwards? Was it because his insecurities made him feel that someone as beautiful as his wife must have had lovers in the past and could not be faithful to him, a dwarf, in the present? Was it because he had finally got over Lostwithiel and so now needed a new object of jealousy to focus on? Or was he just a masochist? Thorin didn't know and so drew on his pipe and gazed blindly at the view.

.o00o.

_("Too cruel," said Poppy, beginning to feel very unhappy about her husband's story. "I want you to change direction and give them a happy ending. I wish we hadn't started this now."_

"_The story seems to have a mind of its own," sighed Lostwithiel. "I'm not so much making it up as following where it leads. I do wonder about this laptop sometimes." Then he snapped it shut. "Let's make some food," he said, "whilst I think about it. And then I'll try to bring it to some kind of conclusion."_

"_And I've decided that I don't mind how you handle their sex life," said Poppy as she mounted the ladder. "If I don't want to know, then I don't have to read it."_

"_Best idea," said her husband.)_

.o00o.

Thorin smoked his pipe, knocked out the bowl and, then, with a sigh, returned to the bedroom door. "I'm sorry, Tauriel," he said quietly. No answer. "I'm really, REALLY sorry," he said. "I know I'm an idiot and that I don't deserve you, but can you forgive me?"

There was a pause; and then he heard the key turning in the lock and the door opened. Tauriel grabbed him by the plaits and pulled sharply. "You STUPID dwarf!" she said.

"Yes, I know," he said humbly. "But this stupid dwarf is in dire need of a kiss." And he shut his eyes and waited expectantly. The kiss was long and hard and he knew that he had been forgiven. "Third time lucky?" he asked.

"The bath, you mean?" And she chuckled softly. Then they set about fetching and filling the bath once more.

"I'm locking the front door," said Thorin grimly. "And, if anyone knocks, then we're not at home."

They took turns to bathe each other and Thorin thought there was nothing more sensuous than soapy hands slowly passing over wet skin. They rubbed each other dry with white, fluffy towels and then Thorin picked her up and carried her to the bed.

"At last," he sighed as he lowered her onto the feather mattress and covered her with his body.

No-one knocked; no-one interrupted. They took their time and finally fell apart from each other with long sighs. "That was beautiful," he said.

"You're beautiful, Thorin," Tauriel whispered gently. But he was fast asleep.

.o00o.

_("Aww," said Poppy. "I didn't mean to read it but I just had to know how it all turned out. You've done a lovely job, 'Thiel. Will they now enjoy the rest of their week together?"_

"_I'm not so sure about that," grinned the elf. "I have this mean streak when it comes to Thorin, you see. Tit for tat, and all that."_

"_Well, how about this for a bit of tit for tat?" said his wife. "You be nice to them and I'll be nice to you." And she closed the laptop and gently led her husband away into their own bedroom._

"_Sounds like a fair exchange," murmured the elf lord and closed the door behind them.)_

.o00o.


	40. Chapter 40 Thorin vs Thranduil

That Thranduil is such a pain, isn't he? And so, just for those who enjoy reading about him, here is a story where Thorin is forced to confront Thranduil again. Will the elven king still get the better of him, as usual?

In this one, Thorin is given another little task to keep him occupied and Arion gets a bit jealous: like father, like son? This time, Beren gets to write the story on the magic laptop.

And I've decided to give you a few chapter references at the end, just in case you want to check out some of the incidents that get mentioned in this story.

.o00o.

All About Thorin…And Everyone Else

Thorin vs Thranduil

Pt I

"Did you have a good week?" asked Lostwithiel, as he tentatively poked his nose around Thorin's front door.

The dwarf was setting out the breakfast table for the family. "What do you think?" he retorted.

"I know nothing," grinned the elf and he opened the door wide and let everyone in. Surreptitiously, he slid the laptop from under his arm onto a side table but Thorin noticed and glared.

"So, that's where it went," he growled. "I might have known."

"But you did have a good time, didn't you?" his son-in-law laughed. "In the end."

"Yes, we did," confirmed Tauriel, as she came in from the kitchen and plonked bowls of porridge on the table. "And now I think we're both ready to face you all again."

The family sat down to eat breakfast and everyone wanted to know what Thorin and Tauriel had done with their time off.

"Did you go on that lovely horse-ride I recommended?" asked Beren eagerly.

"And I bet you enjoyed some good picnics – the weather has been fabulous," said Rosie.

"Well –er – no," said Tauriel, looking desperately across at a laughing Thorin. "We-um - we had lots of visitors instead."

"Yes," said Thorin, deciding to help her out, "the minute you all left, they descended on us – in droves."

"Bad luck," commiserated Arion. "Looks as though you two will never get any rest."

Thorin tried to look hard done by and had the urge to kick Lostwithiel, who was grinning broadly across the table at him, in the shins.

"Who came visiting then?" asked Mary Sue.

"Well, first Gandalf," said Tauriel.

"He had a bath and stayed for the night," grunted her husband, remembering the bath with a scowl.

"That's good to hear," said Arion, thinking about the wizard's visits during his childhood. "I really must take Mary Sue up into the hills to introduce her to him."

"And then Bilbo came – with chocolate cake. He stayed the night as well," Tauriel continued.

"And I remember his chocolate cake too from that time we went on our trip all the way to Lake Town," Arion added. "He'd better have some on offer if we visit him."

"And then we had a visit from my favourite elf," muttered Thorin.

"I thought I was your favourite elf," laughed Lostwithiel. "You can't possibly be talking about Thranduil, can you?"

"Oh, father!" exclaimed Arion. "I bet that made your day!" And Arion remembered the time when he had been a little lad and he had started a fight with all the Mirkwood elves, mainly because of the way that Thranduil and Legolas had been over-familiar with his mother. At least on that score, he and his father thought as one.

"He's a trouble-maker," growled the dwarf, "and didn't exactly improve upon my day. I was glad to see the back of him, if truth be known."

"Thorin," said Tauriel sharply and gave him a warning look.

"So," said Lostwithiel provocatively, "that only accounts for half the week. What did you two get up to for the rest of your break?"

Thorin gave him a challenging look. "We went to bed."

"Oh, that's nice," put in Poppy hastily. "I'm sure you needed a good sleep."

The others nodded in agreement and were pleased that the two had managed to get at least some rest.

Tauriel changed the subject.

"I think that Thorin needs a new project to occupy his time," she said. "Has anyone got any suggestions?"

They all thought for a bit and then a few ideas were tossed around the table.

"You could build me and Poppy a house," said Lostwithiel. "Your daughter is getting rather fed up with living in that tree."

"Build one yourself!" snorted Thorin.

"Well," suggested Beren, "there are three weddings coming up and two of them are in this family: Rosie and myself, plus Arion and Mary Sue. Perhaps you could organise those."

"No way am I letting my father organise my daughter's wedding!" cried Poppy. "This is something that a mother should do."

"I haven't got a mother in this world," said Mary Sue quietly, "but I would love to have Tauriel help me."

"So, let's scrub that idea," muttered Thorin with a sense of relief. He wasn't quite sure that his taste in wedding frocks and flowers and menus would be up to scratch.

"You did some training up at the outpost, didn't you?" asked Arion. "And I've heard that you also did some with the young elves in the tree houses just below here. Why don't you arrange to do some more training of one kind or another? I'm sure there would be a lot of interest. You taught me to swim, for instance. Why not offer swimming lessons?"

But Thorin wasn't too sure. It was a long-term commitment and he fancied a project that would only occupy him for a month or so.

"So, what about organising a competition, then?" Arion persisted. "A swimming competition, perhaps?"

"No need to stop there," added Lostwithiel. "Let's have a huge sporting competition involving not only swimming but archery, sword-play, unarmed combat, fighting with quarter-staffs, riding, running and so forth. There's a large flat area down by the harbour with the hills rising steeply behind. We could set up a great amphitheatre there."

"And don't forget that I wasted my time teaching the troop how to fight dwarven-style with sword and axe. Do we include that too? I might even join in," volunteered the dwarf. "And I can imagine that Gimli will want to be involved."

"Of course we do," laughed Lostwithiel. "I carried on that training after you left and I must admit that we've all become pretty good, even Rosie. And your little group of young elven followers must be quite skilled in the art too after all those years of practising with you." And he nodded towards the tree houses.

"And don't forget about fighting with long knives," put in Tauriel, as she pointed to her own pair hanging on the wall. "I'd be willing to compete in any trial involving that."

The conversation got more and more enthusiastic and animated. The idea was thought to be an excellent one and then Beren was chosen to write about it on the laptop.

"He's not as biased as some I could think of," Thorin said darkly and Lostwithiel had the good grace to blush.

So, Tauriel made another pot of tea and Beren started his story.

.o00o.

Pt II

Thorin vs Thranduil

Thorin was in his forge, working on a farm implement, whilst trying to keep a close eye on Mary Sue. She was bent over a gold buckle, carefully incising it with complex patterns. Her fine, silver-blond hair caught the sunlight and floated like a halo about her head. Thorin smiled quietly to himself. She reminded him so much of his dead, adopted daughter, Rose – not in her nature but in her passion for crafting beautiful things. Like Rose, she had begun to hang around the forge door soon after her arrival, and when he had invited her inside, she expressed so much pleasure in what he was doing that he had taken the time to show her certain skills.

Her head was bent at such a familiar angle, full of concentration and intensity, that he felt a sudden pang of loss and had to go to the door and wipe away the tear that had appeared on his cheek.

Ah, the beautiful Rose, the daughter of his heart. He sometimes missed her so much, but he would never look upon her face again. She was the one thing that the Undying Lands could never give him. Nor would he ever see her children. He drew in a long, slow breath. Be grateful, he told himself. And here was Mary Sue, miraculously arrived from another world, in love with his son and wanting to learn his craft. He smiled and turned back into the comforting warmth of the forge.

"Thorin!" yelled Seleth, the young elf from the settlement below. Thorin halted in the doorway and lifted his hand in greeting. "Can I talk with you for a few moments?" the lad asked. And Thorin gestured him inside.

Seleth sat on the bench next to Mary Sue and she smiled up at him. "Can Mary Sue share in your problem?" asked Thorin. "Or would you like her to go off and get a cup of tea?"

"No, it's all right, I suppose," the elf replied. He was good-looking, of course, but more slender than some, with delicate features and grey eyes. "It's about this sporting event you're organising."

"Don't tell me," grinned Thorin. "You want to enter yourself for so many of the events that you need my advice on the ones I think you're most suited for."

Seleth sighed. "Nope. Completely the opposite, in fact. I don't want to enter any of them because I don't think I'm good enough. But, if I feel obliged to enter one of them, just to save face, I'd like you to give your opinion – perhaps even tell me what event the weakest competitors are going for so that I stand a chance."

Mary Sue put down her engraving tools and began to listen quietly.

"Don't come at things from that angle," advised Thorin. "Just tell me what sport you enjoy the most – or hate the least."

"Well," pondered Seleth, "using heavy weapons like swords and axes, is a non-starter because everyone seems stronger than me and can wield them more efficiently. I'm not a fancy shot with a bow; my running is no better than average and I can't swim."

"What about hand to hand fighting?" asked Thorin. "No weapons or strength required, only skill."

"You're probably right," sighed Seleth. "Thanks for your advice – I'll think about it." And he got up to go.

But Mary Sue jumped up with him. "I'm going to make that cup of tea now," she smiled. "Come on, I'll treat you to one." And she slipped her arm through his in a kindly fashion and went with him out of the forge.

.o00o.

A few hours later, Thorin's son stuck his head around the door of the forge. "Have you seen Mary Sue, father?" he asked.

Thorin laughed. "She won't disappear into thin air if you take your eyes off her for five minutes," he said.

Arion looked slightly embarrassed. "Well, you and mother always stick pretty close together," he said in his defence. "I just love being with her and feel sort of at a loss when she's not around."

Thorin could understand that. When they had been back on Middle-earth, at his forge in Ered Luin, he had always felt quite miserable when Tauriel spent time up at the outpost. "I'm glad Mary Sue came to us, Arion," he said quietly. "I was only thinking this morning when she was working on that buckle there, that she reminded me, in an odd way, of Rose. I really miss her, you know. Now, if there were two children joined at the hip, it was you and Rose."

His son gave a sad smile. "I adored her too. I don't think anyone ever had such a sister. I was really glad that she came into our lives, right out of the blue, even if we were all heartbroken when she died – Telbarad went to pieces, you know. But she had so much love for everyone she met and we should be glad that she lived a long and happy life."

The two of them stood in pensive thought for a few minutes, remembering the lovely Rose, a human whose years had been limited compared with the life-span of elves and dwarves. They couldn't change anything but only think of her with joy and be glad for all the happiness she had brought into the forge at Ered Luin.

Finally, Arion looked up. "So, what about Mary Sue?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," his father replied. "Last seen going off arm in arm with Seleth to make a cup of tea."

"Well, she's not in the house at the moment," said Arion with a puzzled frown.

"Perhaps they've gone down to the tree-houses," suggested Thorin.

"Good idea," said Arion, and went off in search of them.

.o00o.

Pt III

Mary Sue and Seleth were not at the tree houses, nor had anyone seen them. Arion was at a loss and cast his net wider. He was just exploring the limits of the adjacent fields when he suddenly saw them emerging from a neighbouring wood. Their arms were still linked but they looked strangely flushed. Arion's heart gave an unexpected lurch and he wondered what they had been doing.

He waved to them and they came towards him. "Where have you two been?" he asked rather curtly. "I've been looking for you everywhere, Mary Sue." And he not only noticed an exchange of glances between the two but the faint sheen of sweat that was on their foreheads.

"Oh," said Mary Sue with wide-eyed innocence. "Tauriel said she was going to make a pie for us all this evening and we were looking for some soft fruits for her in the wood." And she let go of Seleth's arm. "But we didn't find any," she added.

They parted company with Seleth at this point as he made his way home to the tree houses. Mary Sue and Arion walked in silence the rest of the way to the forge and then Mary Sue said that she was going to wash and change for dinner.

Arion checked out what Tauriel was making for dessert. "I'm not making anything," said his mother, looking flustered and tending to a stew in the kitchen. "It's apples, pears or nothing."

This gave Arion a lot to chew on for the rest of the evening and he thought that Mary Sue looked rather shifty when Tauriel produced the fruit bowl.

.o00o.

Thorin had given himself a month to set up the sporting event. He immediately sent out messengers to the surrounding areas within a 50 mile radius asking for contestants to register their interest. They were all elves, of course, with the exception of himself, Gimli, Bilbo and Frodo. However, Gandalf was Other, a Maia, and Thorin wondered if it were fair to allow him to participate, or even if he would want to.

Then he went down to the wide grassy plain just outside the harbour area and arranged for the grass to be cut and various areas to be laid out ready for the different sports and for rows of wooden benches to be set up in tiers on the hill that backed the plain so that the spectators could be comfortable. Tauriel and Poppy agreed to organise the food.

After a couple of weeks, after no new contestants were coming forward, he sat down with his lists to see if sufficient numbers had volunteered for all the different bouts. He was pleased to see that the entire troop of elves from the former outpost and those from the nearby tree-houses had put themselves forward for a goodly number of events, including the melee with sword and axe, which, of course, included Gimli. Tauriel had signed up for the fight with the long knives; Legolas was the favourite to win at the archery competition with the long, elven bow and Arion was favourite with the short dwarven bow. Beren and Rosie were both hoping to do well in the horse racing and Seleth, Thorin noted, had finally decided to go in for unarmed combat. Poppy, who had never been interested in training with Thorin, was content to look after the food and the two hobbits had decided to volunteer as referees. "They're officious enough," laughed Thorin.

Then much to his surprise and pleasure, he noticed that Mary Sue had entered for a swimming race. "And after you nearly drowned, too," he commented.

"Oh, the shame of that moment," she said wryly. "And me who used to swim for the County at school. If it hadn't been for that debris wrapping itself around my legs, it would never have happened." Thorin was really intrigued to see how she fared.

Gandalf had decided not to participate, as had Thorin. It was a foregone conclusion that he would win with sword and axe and wanted to give Gimli and some of the more skilled elves a chance. An organiser was also needed to be on hand throughout the day, announcing the events and awarding the medals. Thorin knew that his great voice would carry well and he remembered that time during The Battle of the Five Armies when he had cried out across the valley and summoned elves, dwarves and men to his side. On top of that, he rather fancied the pleasure of congratulating the winners. Gold, silver and mithril had been brought to him by all and sundry and he had been busy creating the medals in his forge for some weeks. And everyone who participated would get a certificate: Poppy had a very artistic hand and she was pleased that she could make her contribution behind the scenes, writing the manuscripts and illuminating them quite beautifully. It was a big job and Thorin was proud of the way that she stuck at it for hours on end.

There was only a week to go and there were just the loose ends to tie up. The whole community was getting very excited and, wherever he went, Thorin was greeted with thanks and congratulations for organising the event. He felt very useful and Tauriel was pleased to see what a good mood it had put him in. He walked around the house with a cheerful smile on his face and she often heard him singing as he worked in his forge.

Arion, meanwhile, became quieter and more withdrawn as the days passed. Tauriel was surprised to notice that he seemed so stressed because she had always thought he had a naturally competitive nature. But, he was worrying about Mary Sue. There was always some moment in the day when she slipped away and, if he noticed and went looking for her, he would sometimes see her emerging from the woods with Seleth yet again. He didn't approach them when this happened: he just watched from a distance and worried about it. The day before the event, he actually went searching for them in the woods – and then wished he hadn't – because he found them down by a river half-dressed and scrambling into some clothes, their faces pink and their hair all mussed up.

Arion slipped quietly away and shut himself in the stables. He felt totally destroyed and tried to guess when – or if - the two of them would have the courage to tell him about their affair. He wondered how he had failed Mary Sue but had to admit that Seleth was very attractive in that elven sort of way, whereas he, being only half-even, also had a dwarven earthiness to his looks which perhaps somehow diminished him in her eyes. He wept and, for the first time in his life, wished that Thorin weren't his father.

Things deteriorated still further when she came to bed that night and suggested that they didn't make love but saved all their energies for the sporting events the following day. When she turned over and went to sleep, Arion wondered if she were now so repulsed by him that she couldn't bear to touch him. It was a long time before he got any rest.

.o00o.

Pt IV

The morning of the Fun Day finally dawned and it was a lovely one. There were clear blue skies after a lot of heavy rain in the previous week but it was not too hot. Just right, thought Thorin. The family had an early breakfast and then they all hurried down to the sports arena. Plenty of people were already there, chattering and laughing together and, half an hour before the official opening, the benches were packed.

Thorin and his family sat along a front bench, together with the "referees". Thorin had a very large box in front of him containing the medals and Poppy had an even larger box stuffed full with her certificates, all of them carefully rolled and tied with a red, silk ribbon. She had on a beautiful dress, which made her look very elegant and gracious, and she planned to be there at the end of every event, handing out both certificates and kisses to all paticipants. I'm really going to enjoy this, she giggled to herself.

Five minutes before things began, there was a sudden stir as Thranduil made his entrance. He strolled (in that snotty way of his, thought Thorin) across the greensward and behind him came a number of retainers carrying his own personal picnic basket and, to everyone's amazement, his own personal chair. And what a chair! It was made of wood but wonderfully carved with a softly padded seat and looking very like a throne. Thorin scowled. And then, out of all the places Thranduil could have sat, he chose to park his chair at the end of the row of front benches, right next to Thorin. This, of course, meant that it looked as though Thorin was seated at his feet and the dwarf had to strain his neck to look up at him.

"Why, hello, Thorin," the elf greeted him in a languid voice. "I didn't see you down there. I hope I haven't held up the proceedings. Do carry on." And he made a gracious gesture with his hand.

Thorin felt as though his day was already spoiled and he opened his mouth to make a rude retort. But Tauriel touched him gently on the arm. "Time for your speech, I think," she whispered. And more than happy to remove himself from the elf lord's presence, Thorin hastened to the platform where the medals would be awarded and which faced the tiers of seats.

"That was a lovely speech of welcome," Tauriel told him later and, indeed, he had impressed everyone with his kingly presence and his sonorous voice. He had been practising for weeks and it more than paid off. Those that knew him were proud of him and those who did not, suddenly realised why this impressive figure had earned a place in the Undying Lands. After Thorin had opened the games, there was a thunder of wild applause and many people shouted his name, cheering his efforts. Even Thranduil felt obliged to bring his hands together, however languorously.

From that point onwards, everything ran very smoothly. Thranduil was left to sit on his own because Thorin and Poppy were all over the field, greeting the contestants and starting the events. Bilbo and Frodo were, with the help of Gandalf, refereeing and judging, whilst Tauriel was over in the food tent, making sure that all was well there.

The Oakenshield family was ecstatic as the day passed and the results began to roll in. As was expected, Legolas won the archery competition with the elven long bow but there was a thrilling finale between Challis and Arion in the event with the short dwarven bow. Arion had been given one of these bows when he was a very young child but Lithin, the elf who had finally married Challis, had given her a dwarven bow as a birthday present at the instigation of Thorin and Tauriel. She had loved it and had practised with it ever since. The pair were very evenly matched and, in the end, the event was declared a tie. Thorin beamingly hung a mithril medal around his son's neck and, when Arion happily returned to the bench, Mary Sue smiled warmly at him and kissed him gently on the cheek. "Well done," she whispered.

Gimli, also as expected , won the melee with sword and axe. It was a very exciting fight and all the elves who had been trained by Thorin gave the dwarf a run for his money. Lostwithiel was his last opponent left standing and Thorin was really pleased when the elf came second and he awarded him the gold medal. "You were so determined to do well with these weapons when I first demonstrated them to you," he said. "You really deserve this."

The horse race started and Beren and Rosie gave the cheering crowds a neck and neck finish. Rosie's horse finally won by a head. "You let me win!" exclaimed Rosie as she dismounted.

"I did not," laughed Beren. "I never let anyone win, if I can help it, not even my intended wife!" And he picked her up and kissed her soundly.

Then, much to Thorin's satisfaction, Tauriel won her event with the killing knives. Rosie had never seen her grandmother fight, and she was dazzled by her speed and grace. Her pride in Tauriel shone in her eyes as she hugged and kissed her. "Yes," smiled Thorin, "I'm very proud of her too." And he hung the mithril medal around her neck and took her in his arms to the cheers of the onlookers.

Then it was the swimming race, from one side of the harbour to the other and back again. Everyone was agog to see how this human girl from another world would perform. Arion was concerned that she would make a fool of herself, but he needn't have worried: she was so powerful that she finished yards ahead of the other contestants.

Now they all turned their attention to the unarmed combat. The contestants appeared in tight-fitting outfits that allowed for no hand holds. And there was Seleth, looking very dashing and fit and the Oakenshields gave him a big cheer with no great expectation that he would reach the finals. But he confounded those expectations, defeating his opponents with some lethal whirls and kicks and tossing them over his shoulder with casual ease. The whole family cheered him when he won but Arion watched as Mary Sue jumped up and down, screaming, her eyes glowing at his victory and when he returned with his medal, she rushed forward to meet him and flung her arms around his neck.

She's more thrilled with his victory than with mine, thought Arion, and he felt his heart break.

Thorin rose from his seat to make his final address to the crowd as the games came to an end. But, before he reached the platform, Gandalf mounted it and unexpectedly made an announcement.

"And now," he said, his eyes twinkling, "we shall finish on a surprise event. We are lucky today to have two kings in our midst: Thranduil of Mirkwood and Thorin of Erebor. As a final flourish, we would like to invite these two kings to meet in combat with whatever weapon or weapons they care to choose." The crowd went wild. Thorin and Thranduil gaped at each other but Thorin felt they had no choice but to satisfy their audience's desire for a kingly fight.

"Ah, yes," said Thranduil silkily, rising with feline grace from his chair, "but the problem is, my dear Gandalf, is that neither of us were expecting to fight and so neither of us has his weapons to hand."

"Ah, yes, my dear Thranduil," responded Gandalf, his eyes still dancing, "but I have prepared for every eventuality." And he gestured to a group of elves who suddenly produced a selection of weapons belonging to both of the kings.

Thranduil gave in gracefully and, stepping forward, picked up a long sword in one hand and a short sword in the other. He twirled the long sword easily in one hand whilst tossing and catching the short sword in the other. The crowd applauded admiringly. "My two weapons of choice," he announced, giving Thorin one of his condescending smiles.

Thorin didn't answer but picked up a sword and axe.

"Ah, Orcrist," said Thranduil, looking a tad uncertain for the first time.

At sight of the famous Sindarin blade, the spectators went wild again.

Normally, in Thranduil's presence, Thorin felt stiff, clumsy and tongue-tied. But, with his sword and axe nestled so comfortably in each hand, he knew that they were on a level playing-field. He cut the air with Orcrist in graceful strokes, feeling its perfect balance, and then acknowledged the screams of the crowd with a courteous bow.

"Thor-in! Thor-in! Thor-in!" they chanted and Thranduil looked slightly put out at his popularity.

"You don't have to go through with this, you know," said the elf, looking down his long nose at him. "We can always say that we don't think it's appropriate. And," he added, with a patronising sneer, "I do feel rather unhappy at taking advantage of a dwarf." And he smiled graciously.

"Worried that you've met your match, Thranduil?" Thorin grinned.

"No," snapped the elf lord. "I just don't want to see you make a fool of yourself!"

"How very kind of you," smiled Thorin. And the battle-light gleamed in his eyes and a calm mask settled on his face.

"As you wish," said Thranduil icily. "But I hope you don't regret this." Thorin's knowing smile and raised eyebrow began to bother him.

They both took off their surcoats so that they could fight more comfortably in shirt and breeches. Thorin was not in the least bit concerned that Thranduil had had thousands of years more practice than him. He was totally confident in his own skill and in his fine weapons. They faced each other across the grass, Thranduil looking agile and lithe, Thorin exuding a fearsome power. "You may begin," said Gandalf, and the benches erupted in a deafening roar. Tauriel could only watch through her fingers, understanding the significance of this clash of kings.

Thorin lunged forward in a terrifying attack, but Thranduil showed tremendous speed, staving off the strokes of his opponent's weapons with apparent casual ease. Then the elf lord turned the tables and drove Thorin back with lightning strokes from his two swords and Thorin had to use all his skill to block them. The fight went backwards and forwards like this for some time and each seemed equal to the other. The crowd gasped and cheered and even fell silent in awe during some especially skilled stroke or parry and no-one would lay bets as to which of them would win.

The pair began to pant a little and the sweat broke out on their foreheads. He's quite good, Thorin had to admit to himself, but perhaps not good enough. And he smiled into his beard. They were locked together at that moment, their faces only inches away from each other. Thranduil saw the smile and was irritated. "Ready to surrender yet – dwarf?" he snarled.

"Not quite yet," grinned Thorin annoyingly as he thrust the elf away from him.

Determined to put an end to things, Thranduil called up some reserves of energy and went on another skilful assault, driving Thorin back and back across the field. When the dwarf seemed unable to counter the attack with one of his own, his supporters began to groan. "Come on, Thorin," some of them cried in despair. And Tauriel lowered her fingers, totally compelled by what seemed to be the final moments of the fight and her heart sank.

Have you no faith, Thorin thought to himself, as some elements of the crowd began to wail. And he let himself be driven back a few more paces. Nearly there, he grinned, and Thranduil was so irritated when he saw the dwarf bare his white teeth that he slashed even more furiously at his opponent.

Ahh, here we are, said Thorin to himself, and he stuck out his big boot and tripped Thranduil up. The king went flying, carried by his own momentum and landed face down in a shallow, muddy puddle that Thorin had noticed earlier in the day when he had been checking out the field. The crowd fell silent. Thranduil turned spluttering, sword at the ready, but he wasn't fast enough – Orcrist was at his throat. "Do you surrender – elf?" asked Thorin.

"That was – that was….."

"Cheating?" asked Thorin, with an annoying smile. "I would dispute that. We must discuss tactics later. Meanwhile, do you yield?"

"Yes," said Thranduil curtly. Thorin lowered his sword and the crowd let out a deafening cheer. Tauriel sat there, stunned with relief.

Thorin pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and kneeling next to Thranduil who was still sitting in the puddle, he gently wiped the mud from his face. "There," he said, as if talking to a child. "That's better." And then he laughed and pulled the elf to his feet.

"You're a tremendous fighter," he said. "You had me worried on quite a few occasions there."

Thranduil gave one of his icy smiles and tipped his head slightly. "I bow to my superior," he said. And then he strode elegantly back across the field to pick up his discarded clothing whilst the onlookers cheered and applauded him warmly.

Not a bad loser, thought Thorin.

Then Gandalf awarded him the mithril medal. He was still twinkling.

"Perhaps I shall kill you later," Thorin growled with a scowl.

"I just thought I'd give you an opportunity," laughed the wizard. "And you rose to the occasion."

"You didn't know I would win, though," grumbled the dwarf.

"Didn't I?" said the wizard as he walked away.

.o00o.

All the family, except Arion, went home that night in a happy, laughing mood. Mary Sue was still hanging onto Seleth's arm and the young elf was persuaded to come and eat supper with them. "That was a fine performance you put on today," said Thorin.

Tauriel and Poppy had brought some of the leftovers from the food tent with them and they all sat around the table, snacking and drinking tea. Suddenly, her eyes shining, Mary Sue stood up and faced them all. "Seleth and I would like to confess something," she said.

Arion's jaw dropped. He couldn't believe that they were going to reveal their love to the whole family. And his heart clenched in pain. The rest of them awaited her words with interest. But when she spoke, her revelation was totally unexpected.

"I expect some of you are wondering," she said gleefully, "why Seleth performed so well in the unarmed combat when everyone imagined that he wasn't particularly good at anything." They all nodded. "Well," she continued, "I've spent hours every day for the past two weeks training him. He already had some pretty good skills but I showed him a few special tricks."

"YOU trained him!" exclaimed Thorin in amazement, looking at the slightly-built, pretty girl standing in front of him.

"Yes, hard to believe, isn't it?" she giggled. "But I have a certain wiry strength built up from my swimming and I have a black belt – a top award – in martial arts back in my own world."

"Unbelievable," said Arion, but his broken heart was beginning to hold out a measure of hope.

"Yes, I'm sorry we had to lie to you, Arion," muttered Seleth, looking a bit embarrassed, "but I didn't want anyone to know."

"Give us a demonstration," said Rosie. And so they all went outside and Mary Sue gave an impressive demonstration of leaps and punches and flying kicks of the sort that were unknown to them.

"Brilliant," said Beren. "I'd like to learn how to do that too."

"And me," shouted a lot of the others. And they all returned chattering into the house.

But Arion held Mary Sue back and took her in his arms. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

"What for?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"For thinking that you didn't love me any more but loved Seleth instead," he replied.

"Now, what gave you that silly idea," she murmured. And then she kissed him on the lips and Arion knew that everything was all right in his world again.

.o00o.

_("Brilliantly written story, Beren," said Thorin with satisfaction. "I especially enjoyed that fight at the end."_

"_Well," grinned Beren, "I think we all find Thranduil a bit annoying. I thought it was about time that he had his comeuppance."_

"_Too true," said Thorin, with a smug look. "And I'm glad that I was able to provide it for everyone."_

_All the others had gone to bed by now, exhausted from the efforts of the day. "Now, be off with you," laughed Thorin, "and go and celebrate your achievements with Rosie." And he shut the laptop and gave Beren an encouraging slap on the shoulder._

_Meanwhile, he thought to himself, the conquering hero here will now go and have a triumphant celebration with his own wife." And he turned down the lamps and went off to his room with a gleeful and expectant look on his face.) _

.o00o.

References/episodes referred to in this chapter:

Thranduil is a problem for Thorin in _Thorin and the Silver Rings_.

Rose has a major role in lots of my stories but she makes her first appearance in _Thorin and the Girl_.

Little Arion has his punch-up with the elves of Mirkwood in _Thorin and An Unexpected Journey_.

Challis receives her dwarven bow in _Thorin Sorts Things Out_.

Thorin trains the troops in the use of sword and axe in _Thorin and the Elf Lord_.


End file.
